all these years, and is now of age. She has been living under the care
of a Miss Plympton, from whom I had the pleasure of a call this morning,
and who appears to be a remarkably sensible and right-minded person."

"A daughter?" said Leon. "Oh yes! Of course I remember. And of age!
Well, I never thought of that. Why, she must be heiress to the immense
Dalton property. Of age, and still at school! What's her name? I really
forget it, and it's odd too, for, after all, she's my own cousin, in
spite of the short-comings of her father and--and other people."

"Yes, Leon," said, Sir Lionel, "you're right. She is your own cousin. As
to her father, you must remember how I have always said that he was
innocent, and sinned against rather than sinning. Heaven forbid that we
should visit on this poor child the disgrace of her father, when he was
not guilty at all. I feel confident, Leon, that you will espouse her
cause as eagerly as I do; and since I am prevented from doing any thing
by this infernal gout, I look to you to represent me in this business,
and bring that infernal scoundrel to justice."

"Infernal scoundrel! What infernal scoundrel?"

"Why, this Wiggins."

"Wiggins?"

"Yes. The madman that is trying to shut up Edith, and keep her under
lock and key."

"Edith! Who's Edith? What, Dalton's daughter? Oh, is that her name? But
what do you mean? What madman? what lock and key?"