for wishing that this interview, whatever results it may lead to, may
be considered strictly confidential. I am sure I can depend on your
favouring me thus far?"

"Certainly--most certainly--the strictest secrecy of course--pray go
on."

He drew his chair a little nearer to me. Through all his blinking and
winking, I could see a latent expression of cunning and curiosity in
his eyes. My card was in his hand: he was nervously rolling and
unrolling it, without a moment's cessation, in his anxiety to hear
what I had to say.

"I must also beg you to suspend your judgment until you have heard me
to the end. You may be disposed to view--to view, I say, unfavourably
at first--in short, Mr. Sherwin, without further preface, the object
of my visit is connected with your daughter, with Miss Margaret
Sherwin--"

"My daughter! Bless my soul--God bless my soul, I really can't
imagine--"

He stopped, half-breathless, bending forward towards me, and crumpling
my card between his fingers into the smallest possible dimensions.

"Rather more than a week ago," I continued, "I accidentally met Miss
Sherwin in an omnibus, accompanied by a lady older than herself--"

"My wife; Mrs. Sherwin," he said, impatiently motioning with his hand,
as if "Mrs. Sherwin" were some insignificant obstacle to the