things so hard for you that you couldn't go at all," Peggy retorted with some of her old spirit. "Tell the Annesley Wards they can't have Talgarth; keep it for yourself!"
"I can't, Peggy. Don't ask me."
Peggy took one swift glance at his face, then looked away, her own cheeks paling. But she did not speak, and they walked on in silence, past the Heron's moat, with its giant bulrushes, and its glory of golden kingcups, to the Dower House.
The Dowager Lady Carew was sitting out on the lawn. At sight of the two figures beside her, Peggy's face altered curiously, her footsteps faltered, she glanced behind as though she would willingly have turned back. But it was too late; already she had been seen, and Chesterham was coming to meet them.
"I didn't expect you to-day," Peggy said as he greeted them. "I thought you were in London."
"Did you? That isn't a very warm greeting, Peggy. I found my business could wait awhile," Chesterham said carelessly, as he took possession of her, and he and Crasster exchanged a curt nod. "Your brother and I have been having a business talk, and now Lady Carew has asked me to stay to lunch."
They all walked back together to the weeping willow, where the Dowager Lady Carew had established herself, her stepson beside her. He looked up as they approached.
"What is this I hear about your letting Talgarth, Crasster?"
"I don't know what you may have heard," Stephen laughed. "But I am going to let it to the Annesley Wards."
Sir Anthony looked at him. "I thought you had come here to be near your friends. We looked upon you as a permanent neighbour."
"You are very kind, all of you," Stephen responded, speaking with apparent carelessness. "But I find that I am lost without my work, and it is better to wear out than rust out, Anthony. However, it is possible there may be a hitch yet; the Wards may draw back."
"I hope they will," Sir Anthony said heartily. "We can't afford to spare you, Stephen, things have gone crookedly enough of late, goodness knows, without that." His eyes went across to his future brother-in-law, who was standing by Peggy's side a few paces away.
Sir Anthony frowned as he noticed the girl's freshness and innocence, the man's coarseness, his marks of evil living.
"Chesterham," he called out suddenly, "I hope it isn't true you have given the Westerburys notice to leave the Home Farm, and that you are letting it to Hiram Lee."
"Oh, yes." Chesterham affected to laugh, though there was a gleam in his eye that betokened anything but amusement. "I may put Hiram Lee in to manage it. I think I shall until I see how things turn out. Hiram has come into some money from a distant relative lately; he has turned over a new leaf."
"He has need," Sir Anthony said significantly. "They are a bad lot, those Lees, Chesterham. I am sorry to hear they are favourites of yours."
Chesterham darted a swift look at him, frowning the while. "I don't know that they can be called exactly favourites of mine," he said shortly, "but I don't forget old friends. And I used to spend a good deal of my time here when I was a child, Sir Anthony, a fact that has probably escaped your memory."
"No, I remember you well enough," Sir Anthony contradicted. "But I don't know where the Lees came in."
"You wouldn't," Chesterham said gently, "but I had rather a bad time of it at Chesterham in those days. I was only a bit of a boy, you know," he continued in his slow drawling tones, "and my grandmother was dead, so my grandfather turned me more or less over to the servants' care. My happiest days were spent at the Lees' cottage, playing with old Betty's grandson, Ronald. Hiram, he was a stripling then, was very good to both of us, to me and the boy Ronald. Even if the Lees have managed to fall into disrepute with the good folk of the neighbourhood, I can't quite forget them. You wouldn't wish me to, would you, Peggy?" raising his voice as his fiancée sprang from her seat on the table and came towards them.
"Wouldn't wish you to forget the Lees?" Peggy repeated doubtfully. "N—o, I suppose not. Not if they were really good to you, Lorrimer. But I don't like them. That old Betty Lee always frightens me, I shouldn't care to see much of her myself. She looks a dreadful old woman, I think. But don't let us talk of her or any more of the Lees; I want some tennis, Stephen, and I will take you and Lorrimer, Anthony."
"It is much too hot to play," Sir Anthony grumbled.
But as usual Peggy had her way. She had the first service. As Stephen stood opposite to Chesterham, and the latter raised his arm to take the ball, Stephen for the first time caught sight of the Chesterham star just above the wrist. It was, as Lennox had said, almost identical with the mark which Crasster himself had seen in the very same place on the arm of the man who died in the flat.
Chapter XXIII
"Now you understand what you have to do, Germain." Mr. Lennox's tone was firm and decisive.
Opposite to him there stood Superintendent Germain, of the local constabulary; the third member of the little group was Mr. Lennox's quondam friend, Mr. Barker.
Superintendent Germain evidently found himself in a quandary. "I think I understand, sir; but I can't say I like the job, and if his lordship should take it amiss—"
"We will bear you guiltless," Lennox finished. "But, if you carry out my instructions properly, there is no likelihood of your being blamed by anybody."
"Well, I will do my best, sir," the superintendent said unwillingly. "Though I can't see what is meant by it."
Lennox laughed. "I will tell you all about it in a day or two, superintendent. Now, you understand, Sir Anthony being away from home, you have come to Lord Chesterham as the nearest magistrate to apply for a warrant for the arrest of Peter Wilkins, on a charge of obtaining money by false pretences. Mr. Barker and myself have accompanied you to make our affidavits before him. The rest I will manage. Now, is that plain sailing?"
"Plain enough," the superintendent grumbled. "I will do my best, sir."
"And no man could do more," Mr. Lennox finished cheerfully. "Now, superintendent, here is our dogcart, jump in."
When at last they came in sight of Chesterham Hall, Lennox roused himself and glanced about from side to side with evident interest.
"Pretty place," he said approvingly. "I don't wonder Lord Chesterham prefers it to his castle in the Highlands. That will be the Home Farm we see over there, I suppose, Mr. Germain?"
The superintendent nodded. "His Lordship will soon find he has made a mistake in getting rid of decent tenants like the Westerburys and putting in those good-for-nothing Lees, I fancy."
"Ay! It is a funny notion of his, that," Lennox observed thoughtfully.
"When his lordship was here, a bit of a boy in his grandfather's lifetime, he used to run in and out playing with the old woman's grandson, Ronald, and it seems he has a good memory."
"Ronald!" Mr. Lennox repeated thoughtfully. "That isn't the man that is going into the Home Farm, is it?"
The superintendent shook his head. "No, no! That is Ronald's uncle, Hiram Lee. Old Mrs. Lee had
