At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. It is only a matter of time before he presents himself to whoever has the deeds to Remenham House—a lawyer I presume—and claims that property for his wife’s. Hearing the distant shouts, these fellows rushed down to the entrance of the court, and arrived there just as Jack passed it. He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. Within a single week, Lucy’s popularity soared, mostly because of her now publicly acknowledged relationship with John Diedermayer. But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction.
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