‘There is no occasion.  What I have to say will keep till to-morrow.’

Lord Hartfield and his wife followed Mrs. Steadman downstairs to the low dark hall, where an old eight-day clock ticked with hoarse and solemn heat, and a fine stag’s head over each doorway gave evidence of some former Haselden’s sporting tastes.  The door of a small panelled parlour stood half-way open; and within the room Lord Hartfield saw James Steadman asleep in an arm-chair by the fire, which burned as brightly as if it had been Christmas time.

’He was so chilly and shivery this afternoon that I was obliged to light a fire,’ said Mrs. Steadman.

‘He seems to be sleeping heavily,’ said Hartfield.  ’Don’t awaken him.  I’ll see him to-morrow morning before I go to London.’

‘He sleeps half the day just as heavy as that, my lord,’ said the wife, with a troubled air.  ‘I don’t think it can be right.’

‘I don’t think so either,’ answered Lord Hartfield.  ’You had better call in the doctor.’

’I will, my lord, to-morrow morning.  James will be angry with me, I daresay; but I must take upon myself to do it without his leave.’

She led the way along a passage corresponding with the one above, and unlocked a door opening into a lobby near the billiard-room.

‘Come, Molly, see if you can beat me at a fifty game,’ said Lord Hartfield, with the air of a man who wants to shake off the impression of some dominant idea.

‘Of course you will annihilate me, but it will be a relief to play,’ answered Mary.  ’That strange old man has given me a shock.  Everything about his surroundings is so different from what I expected.  And how could an uncle of Steadman’s come by all that money—­and those jewels—­if they were jewels, and not bits of glass which the poor old thing has chopped up, in order to delude himself with an imaginary treasure?’

‘I do not think they are bits of glass, Molly.’

’They sparkled tremendously—­almost as much as my—­our—­the family diamonds,’ said Mary, puzzled how to describe that property which she held in right of her position as countess regnant; ’but if they are real jewels, and all those rouleaux real money, how could Steadman’s uncle become possessed of such wealth?’

‘How, indeed?’ said Lord Hartfield, choosing his cue

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

ON BOARD THE ‘CAYMAN.’

Goodwood had come and gone, a brief bright season of loss and gain, fine gowns, flirtation, lobster en mayonaise, champagne, sunshine, dust, glare, babble of many voices, successes, failures, triumphs, humiliations.  A very pretty picture to contemplate from the outside, this little world in holiday clothes, framed in greenery! but just on the Brocken, where the nicest girl among the dancers had the unpleasant peculiarity of dropping a little red mouse out of her mouth—­so too here under different forms there were red mice dropping