When Nora entered she looked from one man to the other, as if she wondered by which of them her presence was desired. She declined the chair which Mr. Hooper offered. On his persisting in his request to her to be seated she observed, with the naïve mixture of and pride which became her so well, that she would rather not sit, as she was engaged in copying a passage which was more than usually involved, and to which she would like to return as soon as she could. Mr. Hooper, at her back, directed a glance at Mr. Clifford, of which, had she it, she would probably have required a prompt explanation.  
"I think, Miss Lindsay," he said, "that it is possible that you will do no more copying for me, and that the passage of which you speak may remain unfinished."
 
She turned quickly round to him, alarm on her face.
 
"Mr. Hooper! Why do you say that? What have I done?"
 
"Everything you have done, Miss Lindsay, you have done excellently; if you will permit me to ask you a few questions, you will understand why I say it. Please sit down."
 
"Thank you; I much prefer to stand."
 
"You, of course, are at liberty to please yourself; but, in that case, Mr. Clifford and I must also continue to stand, and that may be ." Thereupon she on to the chair which he had placed for her, glancing as she did so at the two men in front of her as if she suspected them of having together to compel her to seat herself against her will. Mr. Hooper assumed an air which was almost . "I beg you to believe, Miss Lindsay, that in putting to you the questions I am about to put I am actuated only by considerations of your own interests. If they seem at all impertinent, I assure you that it is in appearance only; as, if you will answer them , you will immediately perceive. To begin with, how many children had your father beside yourself?"
 
It is possible that she looked as surprised as she felt; she could hardly have felt more surprised than she looked. She hesitated; then answered--
 
"None."
 
"Then--pardon me if I pain you--were you not on good terms with your father when he died?"
 
Her eyes opened wider; it seemed that her grew.
 
"Of course I was; what do you mean? If you had ever known my father you wouldn't have dreamt of asking such a--such a silly question; I don't wish to be rude, but you wouldn't. My father never said an angry word to me in the whole of his life."
 
"But, in that case, to whom did he leave his money?"
 
"To me."
 
"To you?"
 
"He left everything he had in the world to me absolutely; I don't know quite what it means, but I know that's what they said, absolutely."
 
"Then now it's my turn not to understand you. Your father was an immensely wealthy man. If you are his heiress, how is it I have the honour, and happiness, of seeing you here, in receipt of a modest weekly salary?"
 
"Every one thought papa was rich; I did; I understood him to tell me himself that he was; but it seemed, after all, that he wasn't. Indeed, as soon as he was dead, some man said he owed him a great deal of money, for bills."
 
"Bills!"
 
The interruption came from Clifford.
 
"I don't know what kind of bills they were; but I know they were bills of some kind, because I was told so; then they came and sold everything to get money to pay the bills, and I was left with nothing."
 
The two men eyed each other as if the significance of what the girl said surpassed their comprehension. Mr. Clifford continued his interposition.
 
"Miss Lindsay, Mr. Hooper has told you my name; it is Clifford--Frank Clifford. I believe I knew your father for many years, and am indebted to him for many kindnesses. Did he never mention my name to you?"
 
"Clifford? No, I don't remember his ever having done so."
 
"I saw your portrait in his rooms yesterday, and when I saw you this morning I recognized you at once."
 
"His rooms? What rooms?"
 
"His rooms in town."
 
"I didn't know he had any; we couldn't find out that he had an address in town."
 
"You couldn't find out that he had an address in town? I don't understand; there is something very strange here. Do you know a Mr. Nash?"
 
"Herbert Nash? He acted as my after my father was dead."
 
"Your solicitor, or your father's?"
 
"Mine. He went through my father's papers with a friend, and it was he who discovered that he had left no money."
 
"This is stranger and stranger. How many executors did your father appoint?"
 
"Executors?"
 
"How many executors did your father appoint in his will?"
 
"I never heard that he appointed any."
 
"Then did you ever hear of a Mr. Morgan?"
 
"Morgan? Stephen Morgan? Stephen Morgan was our butler at Cloverlea."
 
Mr. Clifford gave what seemed like a of .
 
"Your butler! Miss Lindsay, would you mind describing your butler?" She did it so minutely that he identified his visitor of yesterday beyond a doubt. "I have had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Morgan, Miss Lindsay; but he did not introduce himself as your father's butler. Would it be asking too much to ask you to describe your father?"
 
"I can do better than that. He never would be photographed by a professional, but I managed to sna............