with an intense look of love. When she could
command her voice, she said:

"Justice costs me very dear, but I must
render justice."

Mr. Cathcart shrugged his shoulders, and
inquired " To whom?—To yourself and my friend
here, or to these mysterious personages, whose
very existence your brother evidently desired to
ignore, until seized upon by—by—Well, no
matter. But he made no provision in any way
for this wife and child."

"His injustice could be no excuse for mine."

"What do you purpose to do?"

"I fear," answered Cecil—and now her voice
faltered, for she was well-nigh worn down by
contending emotions—"I have nothing to
propose—no plan to set before you; but I wish to
discover Mrs. Middleton and her child. You
will know how to set about it. I also wish those
documents copied, I retaining the originals, I
want this done at once, and I have not strength
to copy them myself; the last four or five hours
have unnerved me."

"You had better speak with Miss Middleton
on this subject before it goes any further," said
Mr. Cathcart, rising. " I will wait in the next
room."

For some minutes no word passed between
them. Ronald Chester stood beside the one
love of his whole life, and she laid her head on
his bosom, sobbing that dry, hard, tearless sob
of agony which can be felt and heard, but not
described.

"It was a dreary duty," she whispered,
"and oh the cruelty of leaving me such a task!
Ronald, my love, my life, you know what is my
duty."

"Clearly, Cecil," he replied, " clearly, you are
doing what is right, and what is honest. My
noble Cecil! Never so fondly loved, never so
highly honoured, as at this moment when we
are torn asunder!"

With a sharp cry Cecil sprang to her feet,
threw back her head, and to the last day of his
life Ronald never forgot the light bursting like
a sudden glory through her tears.

"No, Ronald, not that. If my brother's
marriage were legal, and his child lives, I cannot
prove my love and homage by making you
master of Middleton Lea. But"—and here the
heroine melted into the woman, and proved
how one of her brother's poisoned arrows
rankled in the wound—" you will not forsake
me, Ronald; though I am faded, our love is
unfading, we will go together to the New World:
that will be our harbour of refuge, there we will
love and live and toil together. Did you think
I would let you go alone?"

                CHAPTER VI.

WHEN Ronald Chester sought Mr. Cathcart,
he found him in a state of excitement and
exasperation wonderful to witness.

"I never," said the worthy lawyer, " met
with such an absurd case in all my experience.
Chester, I have known you from your boyhood,
a capital common-sense fellow, and as honourable
as man could be, you surely will exorcise
this romantic spirit out of Miss Middleton?
Now, don't speak; if that hard-hearted
scoundrel her brother had considered his
marriage worth a straw, he would not in the first
instance have determined to destroy its
evidence, knowing the woman would crop up.
It was one of those entanglements of which I
dare say he had plenty, but which he did not
believe in, if he had, the boy—his own boy!
but I dare say he did not believe in him either.
All I would entreat of Miss Middleton to do, is
to let the matter rest. If there is a wife she
will be certain to make her appearance; let her
bring forward her claim, and then it is for us to
dispute it."

"I know Cecil's sense of justice," interrupted
Mr. Chester. "If the wife is living, she
would, I think, ere this have made a claim.
If she does not come forward, Miss Middleton
will belive she is dead, and will seek the child,
of whom she will consider herself the natural as
well as the lawful guardian."

"Lawful fiddlestick!" exclaimed the lawyer,
thoroughly irritated. " I beg your pardon, my
dear Chester, but I can't help it. This is simply
a question of law. Of course you can influence
Miss Middleton. She has no right to know
anything about that wife and child, until a
proper claim is made."

"But she does know it," said Mr. Chester,
calmly, " and I know her. If she can find that
child, and he is legitimate, she will retreat on
her five thousand pounds."

"What madness! Give up all claim to that
noble property—to what?—to whom? Give
up her love for you——"

"No, my good friend, that has nothing to
do with property, except the property we have
each in the other."

Mr. Cathcart paused, and stared at him.

"All I ask is to let time and the law take its
course; let Miss Middleton remain as she is;
take no steps to discover the child or the woman;
can she not give the law fair play?"

"Cecil does not think of law, she only thinks
of justice," said Chester.

"That's an unfair hit," replied Mr. Cathcart,
"but I tell you the case will not hold water.
She seeks to convert a fiction into a fact. Major
Middleton's death has been in all the papers, he
has been buried more than a month. If there had
been a wife, she would have been heard of before
now."

"Let us say good night now, and meet here
to-morrow," said Mr. Chester.

"Very good. I need not see Miss Middleton
again to-night. Make my respects to her, tell
her neither men nor women ever did any
good by taking the law into their own hands.
All I ask of her is to let matters have their
course."

But Cecil would not do that. She would not
even go to Middleton Lea until every possible
means had been used to trace the woman and
child, whom she felt assured had been foully
wronged.