"And that Sir Arthur Byrne has never told you anything as to your birth?
Surely you must have questioned him about it?"

"He has told me all he knows," said Juliet, "but that amounts to
nothing."

"Indeed; that is very strange. He must have had dealings with the people
you were with before he adopted you. He must at least know their name?"

"I don't know," said Juliet. "He doesn't know either, I am sure. It
wasn't Sir Arthur who adopted me. It was the lady he married. A Mrs.
Meredith. She is dead."

"But he must have heard about you from her," insisted Mr. Findlay. "He
would not have taken a child into his household without knowing anything
at all about it."

"His wife told him that I was the daughter of a friend of hers, and
begged him not to ask her any more about me. He was very devoted to her,
and he did as she wished. He has been most kind to me; but I am sure he
would be as glad as I should be to discover my relations. I am dreadfully
disappointed that you don't know anything about them. We all thought I
was going to find my family at last."

Juliet's voice quavered a little. She had built too much on this
interview.

"I am really extremely sorry not to be able to give you any information,"
Mr. Findlay said.