"Richard Hobson, the attorney? I believe I met him once or twice,
years ago, in London, but I cannot claim any acquaintance with him."

"Dick Hobson does not deserve the name of attorney," remarked Ralph
Mainwaring; "he is a shyster and a scoundrel."

"He certainly bears a hard reputation," rejoined Mr. Thornton; "and
I would not have mentioned his name, only that I met him here about
half an hour since, and that caused me to make the inquiry I did."

Hugh Mainwaring paled visibly, though he remained calm. "Met him
here, in my house? Impossible!" he exclaimed, at the same time
glancing towards the butler, but the face of that functionary was
as immobile as rock. "I did not suppose the man was in this
country!"

"Oh, yes," replied Ralph Mainwaring; "he left England about two
years ago; he played one too many of his dirty games there and took
the first steamer for America, hoping, I suppose, to find a wider
sphere of action in this country."

"Possibly I may have been mistaken," remarked Mr. Thornton, quietly,
realizing that he had unconsciously touched an unpleasant chord,
"but the resemblance was certainly striking."

An awkward silence followed, broken by young Scott, who excused
himself on the plea of important work and returned to Mr.
Mainwaring's library, where he was soon joined by all the gentlemen
excepting young Mainwaring. In the hall, Hugh Mainwaring paused for
a few words with the butler, and the attorney, passing at that