guardian," replied Mr. Pawle. "In fact, we are all interested. So now, rub up your memory—and answer Mr. Carless' questions."
Viner remained in the background, quietly watching, while Mr. Pawle effected the necessary introductions. He was at once struck by what seemed to him an indisputable fact—between Lord Ellingham and Miss Wickham there was an unmistakable family likeness. And he judged from the curious, scrutinizing look which Mr. Carless gave the two young people as they shook hands that the same idea struck him—Mr. Carless wound up that look in a significant glance at Mr. Pawle, to whom he suddenly muttered a few words which Viner caught.
"By Jove!" he whispered. "I shouldn't wonder if you're right."
Then he placed Miss Wickham in an easy-chair on his right hand, and cast a preliminary benevolent glance on her.
"Mr. Pawle," he began, "has told us of your relationship with the late Mr. Ashton—you always regarded him as your guardian?"
"He was my guardian," answered Miss Wickham. "My father left me in his charge."
"Just so. Now, have you any recollection of your father?"
"Only very vague recollections. I was scarcely six, I think, when he died."
"What do you remember about him?"
"I think he was a tall, handsome man—I have some impression that he was. I think, too, that he had a fair complexion and hair. But it's all very vague."
"Do you remember where you lived?"
