Put somewhat at her ease, Clem drew her hand from the neighbourhood of the bread-knife, and detailed all she knew with regard to old Mr. Snowdon and his affairs.  Her mother had from the first suspected that he possessed money, seeing that he paid, with very little demur, the sum she demanded for Jane’s board and lodging.  True, he went to live in poor lodgings, but that was doubtless a personal eccentricity.  An important piece of evidence subsequently forthcoming was the fact that in sundry newspapers there appeared advertisements addressed to Joseph James Snowdon, requesting him to communicate with Messrs. Percival & Peel of Furnival’s Inn, whereupon Mrs. Peckover made inquiries of the legal firm in question (by means of an anonymous letter), and received a simple assurance that Mr. Snowdon was being sought for his own advantage.

‘You’re cool hands, you and your mother,’ observed Joseph James, with a certain involuntary admiration.  ’This was not quite three years ago, you say; just when I was in America.  Ha—­hum!  What I can’t make out is, how the devil that brother of mine came to leave anything to me.  We never did anything but curse each other from the time we were children to when we parted for good.  And so the old man went out to Australia, did he?  That’s a rum affair, too; Mike and he could never get on together.  Well, I suppose there’s no mistake about it.  I shouldn’t much mind if there was, just to see the face you’d pull, young woman.  On the whole, perhaps it’s as well for you that I am fairly good-tempered—­eh?’

Clem stood apart, smiling dubiously, now and then eyeing him askance.  His last words once more put her on her guard; she moved towards the table again.

‘Give me the address,’ said her husband.  ’I’ll go and have a talk with my relations.  What sort of a girl’s Janey grown up—­eh?’

‘If you’ll wait a bit, you can see for yourself.  She’s goin’ to call here at twelve.’

’Oh, she is?  I suppose you’ve arranged a pleasant little surprise for her?  Well, I must say you’re a cool band, Clem.  I shouldn’t wonder if she’s been in the house several times since I’ve been here?’

‘No, she hasn’t.  It wouldn’t have been safe, you see.’

’Give me the corkscrew, and I’ll open this bottle of whisky.  It takes it out of a fellow, this kind of thing.  Here’s to you, Mrs. Clem!  Have a drink?  All right; go downstairs and show your mother you’re alive still; and let me know when Jane comes.  I want to think a bit.’

When he had sat for a quarter of an hour in solitary reflection the door opened, and Clem led into the room a young girl, whose face expressed timid curiosity.  Joseph James stood up, joined his hands under his coat-tail, and examined the stranger.

‘Do you know who it is?’ asked Clem of her companion.

‘Your husband—­but I don’t know his name.’

‘You ought to, it seems to me,’ said Clem, giggling.  ‘Look at him.’