just now visiting a sick friend. No, sir—I'm as sure as a man can be of anything that the existence of a child of Matthew Mortover's and Louisa Patello's is absolutely unknown to Patellos and Mortovers! It comes to me, that news, as a genuine surprise. And what's more, sir, knowing as I do something of the Mortover family and their affairs, I can foresee complications, legal complications, if this young lady really is what she claims to be, according to you—Matthew's daughter. Oh, yes!"
"What sort of complications, Mr. Patello?" asked Wedgwood. He had long since formed a decided opinion that his host was both honest and candid, and he now wanted to draw him out. "Legal, eh?"
"Legal, sir!" affirmed Mr. Patello with a vigour which surprised his listener. "Legal! For, as I said before, sir, I know something of the Mortover family history, and I know that old Gilson Mortover, father of Matthew, never made a will and therefore died intestate. Now, sir, all the property the Mortovers ever had to bless themselves with was land—real estate. Never worth anything, sir, that land until lately—poor, dank, unprofitable land, good for nothing but for a few sheep and cattle to scratch a miserable bite out of. But now—
