“Is she dead, then?”

“Yes; she died eight or nine years ago.”

“Could they have been related?”

“Possibly.  Some likeness seems to have struck your uncle.”

There was a short silence, and Mr. Newton resumed.  “I trust you do not find your stay here too trying?  I consider it very important that you should persevere, though it is only right to tell you that Mr. Liddell has made a will—­not a just one, in my opinion—­and it is extremely unlikely he will ever change it.”

“That does not really affect me.  Of course I should be very glad if he chose to leave anything to my mother or myself, but I shall do my best for him under any circumstances.  Besides, I have a sort of desire to make him speak to me and like me—­perhaps it is vanity—­quite apart from a sense of duty.  He is so like a frozen man!”

“Try, try by all means, my dear young lady.”

“What I do not like is the hour or half hour after market.  The wolfish greed by which he clutches the change I bring back, the glare in his eyes, the fierce eagerness with which he asks the price of everything—­he is not human at such times, and I almost fear him.”

“It is a dreadful picture, but perhaps the details may soften in time.”

“How shall I get money for all he wants?” asked Katherine, anxiously.

“I shall impress upon Mr. Liddell the necessity of his case, and even make out that the good things he requires cost more than they do.  I will beg him to allow me to supply the money during his indisposition and enter it in his account.  Here, I will give you five pounds while we are alone.”

“Thank you so much!  You see I dare not get into debt.  I will keep a careful account of all expenditure, and ask him—­my uncle, I mean—­not to give me any money, then there will be no confusion.

“Very well.  I will go back to him now.  He will be almost ready to come in here.  Write to me frequently.  I shall try to look in to-morrow for a few minutes.”

Katherine stirred the fire, and placed a threadbare footstool before the invalid’s easy-chair, thanking Heaven in her heart for sending her such an ally as the friendly lawyer.

Then Mr. Liddell appeared, leaning on Newton’s arm, and not looking much worse than usual, Katherine thought.  He took no notice of her until she put the footstool under his feet; then, wonderful to relate, he looked down into her grave, kindly face and smiled, not bitterly or cynically, but as if, on the whole, pleased to see her.  He seemed a little breathless, yet he soon began to speak to Newton as if in continuation of their previous conversation—­“And is Fergusson really a year younger than I am?”

“Yes, quite a year, I should say, and he takes great care of himself.  I do not think he has really so good a constitution as you have, but he takes everything that is strengthening—­good wine, turtle soup, and I do not know what.”