"Very possibly," quoth the brewer, doggedly. "Mrs. Butler left the town
with her little girl some time before Mr. Templeton married."

"Well, you are wiser than I am," said Lumley, forcing a smile. "But how
can you be sure that Mrs. Butler and Mrs. Cameron are one and the same
person? You did not go into the house, you could not have seen Lady
Vargrave" (and here Lumley shrewdly guessed--if the tale were true--at
the cause of his uncle's exclusion of his old acquaintance).

"No! but I saw her ladyship on the lawn," said Mr. Winsley, with another
sardonic smile; "and I asked the porter at the lodge as I went out if
that was Lady Vargrave, and he said, 'yes.' However, my lord, bygones are
bygones,--I bear no malice; your uncle was a good man: and if he had but
said to me, 'Winsley, don't say a word about Mrs. Butler,' he might have
reckoned on me just as much as when in his elections he used to put five
thousand pounds in my hands, and say, 'Winsley, no bribery,--it is
wicked; let this be given in charity.' Did any one ever know how that
money went? Was your uncle ever accused of corruption? But, my lord,
surely you will take some refreshment?"

"No, indeed; but if you will let me dine with you tomorrow, you'll oblige
me much; and, whatever my uncle's faults (and latterly, poor man, he was
hardly in his senses; what a will he made!) let not the nephew suffer for
them. Come, Mr. Winsley," and Lumley held out his hand with enchanting
frankness, "you know my motives are disinterested; I have no
parliamentary interest to serve, we have no constituents for our Hospital
of Incurables; and--oh! that's right,--we're friends, I see! Now I must
go and look after my ward's houses. Let me see, the agent's name
is--is--"