world are committed by old servants. Be seated, if you please, sir. You
find this room rather close, perhaps. Some people do; but I'm old and
chilly, and I can't live without a fire."

"I have come to you in great anxiety of mind," said Gilbert, as he seated
himself upon the only disengaged chair in the room, "and with some hope
that you may be able to set my mind at ease by affording me information
about Miss Marian Nowell."

"I can give you no information about her."

"Indeed!" cried Gilbert, with a bitter pang of disappointment; "and yet
you answered my advertisement."

"I did, because I have some reason to suppose this Marian Nowell may be
my granddaughter."

"That is quite possible."

"Can you tell me her father's name?"

"Percival Nowell. Her mother was a Miss Lucy Geoffry."

"Right," said the old man. "Percival Nowell was my only son--my only
child of late years. There was a girl, but she died early. He was my only
son, and his mother and I were foolish enough to be proud of his good
looks and his clever ways; and we brought him up a gentleman, sent him to
an expensive school, and after that to the University, and pinched
ourselves in every way for his sake. My father was a gentleman; and it
was only after I had failed as a professional man, through circumstances