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POPULAR PILLS

      On the Monday, after Dr. Banyard had been gone perhaps a couple of hours, Mr. Nash drove up to Cloverlea in a dogcart. Miss Harding met him in the drive. At sight of her the gentleman descended; the cart went on up to the house, to wait for him. So soon as it was out of sight the lady, taking a packet from the bodice of her dress, gave it to her lover.

      "That's the two hundred; put it in your pocket; I want you to promise that you'll not breathe a word to any one about the money having come from me."

      "I promise readily."

      "Nor about any other money which-I may find. I want you to keep your own counsel; I want people to suppose that the money is your own; I don't want them to think I'm buying a husband."

      "I certainly will neither do nor say anything to make them think so. All the same, darling, I don't know how to thank you; you don't know what this means to me. It seems to be all in gold?"

      He was fingering the parcel in his jacket pocket.

      "It is; I thought you might find it more convenient."

      "I think it's possible you're right; I believe you always are."

      As he had been coming along in the dogcart he had not seemed to be in the best of spirits; now he was unmistakably cheerful; that package had made a difference. A question, however, which she asked seemed to annoy him more than, on the surface, it need have done.

      "What became of Mr. Peters?"

      "They gave him six months-confound the idiots?"

      "Why confound them?"

      The smile with which he accompanied his reply seemed forced.

      "A lawyer likes his client to be acquitted."

      "But Dr. Banyard says that he's a scoundrel."

      "Dr. Banyard! You can tell Dr. Banyard, with my compliments, that he's a Pharisee."

      "I think nothing of the man; I think he's an interfering prig. I don't like him, and he doesn't like me."

      "Which shows that he must be all kinds of a fool."

      "I don't know about that; but I do know that I don't like him. By the way, I suppose you understand what you're coming for. Everything here is at sixes and sevens. Nora knows absolutely nothing about her father's business affairs; he never told her anything; he kept his own counsel with a vengeance."

      "So I gathered from your note."

      "She doesn't even know who his man of business was. She wants you to find out; she thinks that if you look through his papers you will."

      "There should be no difficulty about that. If I have access to his papers I ought to find that out inside ten minutes."

      "I suppose so. But even if you do find out I don't see why you shouldn't keep the conduct of her affairs as much as possible in your hands; I think it might be done; you'll have my influence upon your side. You needn't say anything about there being an understanding between us; we can't keep people from guessing; but don't let them know-till it suits us."

      He saw something in her eyes which caused him to pay her what some people would have regarded as an ambiguous compliment.

      "By George, you're a clever one; you're the sort of girl I like!"

      "I'm glad of that; because you happen to be the sort of man I like."

      He laughed.

      "I'd like to kiss you!"

      "Quite impossible, here. You see, it might be rather a good thing for you to have the management of Nora's estate."

      "True, oh queen!"

      "Then why shouldn't you have it?"

      "I know of no reason."

      "There is no reason, if you take proper advantage of the fact that you're first on the field." They had entered the house and were standing outside the study door. She produced a key. "Nora's not appearing; poor dear, she's more distressed than I ever thought she would have been! so, on this occasion only, I am doing the honours. We've kept this room locked up since the day on which Mr. Lindsay was taken ill; no one has crossed the threshold; you'll find everything in the same condition in which he left it." They entered the room. So soon as they were in he kissed her, and she kissed him, though she protested. "Hush! Nora's waiting for me! Remember what I told you; there's no reason why you shouldn't have the management of everything-if you like."

      He communed with himself when she had left him.

      "I wonder what she means, exactly; she's careful not to dot her i's. She's the dearest girl in the world, even dearer than I thought. This is something like a windfall." He took out the packet, fingering it, smilingly, with the fingers of both hands. Then, replacing it in his pocket, glancing round the room, he was struck by the state of disorder it was in. "It's as well they kept the door locked; everything seems to have been left about for the first comer to admire. Lindsay must have been having a regular turn-out when he was taken ill; I wonder why." On the writing-table the first thing which caught his eye were some slips of blue paper secured by a rubber band. He snatched them up. They were four promissory notes, payable at various dates; they all bore the same signature, Herbert Nash. He chuckled. "We'll consider those as paid, until they prove the contrary; which they'll find it hard to do." He slipped them into his breast pocket. Settling himself on the chair on which Mr. Lindsay had been seated when death first touched him on the shoulder, he began to go methodically through the papers which were about him, practically, on all sides. He came on one, the contents of which seemed to occasion him profound surprise. "What on earth is this? what the dickens does it mean?" There was not a great deal on the paper; what there was he read again and again, as if he found its meaning curiously obscure. "This is queerish; I'd give a trifle to know what it does mean; it might be worth one's while to inquire."

      Folding up the paper he placed it in his breast pocket, with the promissory notes. Hardly had he done so than the door was opened, without any warning, and Dr. Banyard came into the room.

      "Hallo, Nash! have you found anything? have you found out who his man of business was?"

      Mr. Nash glanced up from the papers he was studying; if he was a little startled by the doctor's unheralded appearance he gave no sign of it.

      "I haven't discovered his man of business; but I have found something."

      "You haven't come upon anything which shows who it was he generally employed; I understand you've been here some time."

      Mr. Nash shook his head.

      "I don't know how long I have been here, but I've come on nothing which shows that he ever employed any one at all."

      "He must have employed some one."

      The other shrugged his shoulders.

      "I've gone through a good many of his papers; I've not hit on one which suggests it."

      "You said you'd found something; what is it?"

      "His will; or, rather, a will."

      "That is something."

      "Especially as, beyond a shadow of doubt, it's the last will he ever made. It was drawn up on the third, last Thursday, probably just before he was taken ill. It's in his own writing, brief, and to the point, and apparently quite in order, since it was witnessed by Morgan, the butler here, and Mrs. Steele the housekeeper."

      "Let's have a look at it."

      "Here it is, in the envelope in which I found it."

      The doctor examined the paper which he took out of the envelope; it seemed that its contents gave him satisfaction.

      "I see that, by this, he's left everything to his daughter unconditionally."

      "That is so, the intention's unmistakable."

      "Then she's safe; that's all right. It ought to be something handsome; I wonder how much it is."

      "That's the question."

      "I suppose you've come across something which gives you, at any rate, some vague notion."

      "I haven't, that's the odd part

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