and about which gleamed the hard wild lights of a March sunset, to
seek a place to hide themselves. The vivid horror of the phantasy
almost overcame her.

"Is there no way of escape?" she asked hoarsely. "To lose this place
would kill my father. He loves it better than anything in the world;
his whole life is wrapped up in it."

"I can quite understand that, Miss de la Molle; it is a most charming
old place, especially to anybody interested in the past. But
unfortunately mortgagees are no respecters of feelings. To them land
is so much property and nothing more."

"I know all that," she said impatiently, "you do not answer my
question;" and she leaned towards him, resting her hand upon the
table. "Is there no way out of it?"

Mr. Quest drank a little claret before he answered. "Yes," he said, "I
think that there is, if only you will take it."

"What way?" she asked eagerly.

"Well, though as I said just now, the mortgagees of an estate as a
body are merely a business corporation, and look at things from a
business point of view only, you must remember that they are composed
of individuals, and that individuals can be influenced if they can be
got at. For instance, Cossey and Son are an abstraction and harshly
disposed in their abstract capacity, but Mr. Edward Cossey is an
individual, and I should say, so far as this particular matter is
concerned, a benevolently disposed individual. Now Mr. Edward Cossey