The Ashiel mystery Part 3

"We wrote you care of Sir Arthur Byrne," he resumed; "are you a member of his family?"

Here was a disturbing question for Juliet. She had imagined, until this instant, that she was on the point of being told who her family was, and now this man was asking for information from her. Tears of disappointment would not be kept from her eyes.

"I am a member of Sir Arthur's household," she stammered.

"Are you not his daughter, then?" asked Mr. Findlay.

"No, I am not really," Juliet replied.

"Then may I ask what relation you are to him?" said the lawyer.

"I am his adopted daughter," said Juliet. "I have always called him 'Father.'"

"Are you not any relation at all?" pursued Mr. Findlay.

"I believe not."

"Then, Miss Byrne, I hope you will not think it an impertinent question if I ask, who are you?"

"I don't know," acknowledged poor Juliet. "I was hoping you would tell me that. I thought, I imagined, that that was why you sent for me."

"You astonish me," said Mr. Findlay. "Do you mean to say that your family has never made any attempt to communicate with you?"

"No, never."

"And that Sir Arthur Byrne has never told you anything as to your birth?

Surely you must have questioned him about it?"

"He has told me all he knows," said Juliet, "but that amounts to nothing."

"Indeed; that is very strange. He must have had dealings with the people you were with before he adopted you. He must at least know their name?"

"I don't know," said Juliet. "He doesn't know either, I am sure. It wasn't Sir Arthur who adopted me. It was the lady he married. A Mrs. Meredith. She is dead."

"But he must have heard about you from her," insisted Mr. Findlay. "He would not have taken a child into his household without knowing anything at all about it."

"His wife told him that I was the daughter of a friend of hers, and begged him not to ask her any more about me. He was very devoted to her, and he did as she wished. He has been most kind to me; but I am sure he would be as glad as I should be to discover my relations. I am dreadfully disappointed that you don't know anything about them. We all thought I was going to find my family at last."

Juliet's voice quavered a little. She had built too much on this interview.

"I am really extremely sorry not to be able to give you any information,"

Mr. Findlay said.

He turned towards the other man with an interrogative glance, and was met by a nod of the head, at which he leant back in his chair, crossed his legs and folded his hands upon them, with the expression of some one who has played his part in the game, and now retires in favour of another compet.i.tor. The pale man moved his chair a little forward and took up the conversation.

"Are you really quite certain that Sir Arthur Byrne has told you all he knows?" he said earnestly, fixing on Juliet a look at once grave and eager.

"Yes," she answered. "I can see that he is as puzzled as I am. And he would be glad enough to find a way to get rid of me," she added bitterly.

"I thought you said you were attached to him," said the stranger in surprise, "and that he had been very kind to you?"

"Yes," said Juliet, "he has, and I am as fond of him as possible. But he has three stepdaughters now; he has married again, you know. And he is not very well off. I am a great expense, besides being an extra girl. I don't blame him for thinking I am one too many."

There was a long pause, during which Juliet was conscious of being closely scrutinized.

"I think I may be able to give you news of your family," said the pale man unexpectedly. "That is, if you are the person I think you are likely to be."

"Oh," exclaimed Juliet, "can you really?"

"Well, it is possible," admitted the other. "I can't say for certain yet."

"Oh, do, do tell me!" cried the girl.

"Out of the question, at present," he replied firmly. "I must first satisfy myself as to whose child you are, and on that point you appear able to give me no a.s.sistance. You must wait till I can find out something further about this matter of your adoption. And even then," he added, "it is not certain if I can tell you. You must understand that, though certain family secrets have been placed in my possession, it does not depend upon myself whether or not I shall ultimately reveal them to you."

Juliet's face fell for a moment, but she refused to allow herself to be discouraged.

"There is a chance for me, anyhow!" she exclaimed. "How I hope you will be allowed to tell me in the end! But why," she went on, turning to Mr. Findlay, "did you make me think you knew nothing at all about me. I suppose the family secrets your partner speaks of are the secrets of my family?"

"My dear young lady," said Mr. Findlay, "Lord Ashiel is not my partner. On the contrary, he is an old client of ours, and it was at his request that we wrote to you as we did. We know no more about your affairs than you have told us yourself."

"Oh," murmured Juliet, confused at her mistake. "I thought you were Mr.

Ince," she apologized; "I am so sorry."

"Not very flattering to poor Ince I'm afraid," said Lord Ashiel, smiling at her. "He's ten years younger than I am, I'm sorry to say, and I would change places with him very willingly. Now, if you had mistaken me for Nicol, that undertaker clerk of Findlay's, who always looks as if he's been burying his grandmother, I should have been decidedly hurt. What in the world do you keep that fellow in the office for, Findlay? To frighten away custom?"

Mr. Findlay laughed.

"He's a more useful person than you imagine," he said. "Though I must say Ince agrees with you, and is always at me about the poor man. Some day I hope you will both see his sterling qualities."

"I am afraid you must think I have given you a great deal of trouble for very little reason," Lord Ashiel said to Juliet. "But perhaps there will be more result than at present can seem clear to you. I may go so far as to say that I hope so most sincerely. But, if the secret of which I spoke just now is ever to be confided to you, it will be necessary for you and me to know each other a little better. I have a proposal to make to you, which I fear you may think our acquaintance rather too short and unconventional to justify."

He paused with a trace of embarra.s.sment, and Juliet wondered what could be coming.

"It is not convenient for me to stay in London just now," he went on after a minute, "and I am sure you must find it very disagreeable at this time of the year; and yet it is very important that I should see more of you. It is, in fact, part of the conditions under which I may be able to reveal these family secrets of yours to you. That is to say, if they should turn out to be indeed yours. I came up from the Highlands last night. I have a place on the West Coast, where at this moment I have a party of people staying with me for shooting. My sister is entertaining them in my absence, but I must get back to my duties of host. What I want to suggest is that you should pay us a visit at Inverashiel."

"Thank you very much," said Juliet doubtfully. "I should love to, but-I don't know whether my father would allow me."

"Your father?" exclaimed Lord Ashiel and Mr. Findlay in one breath.

"Sir Arthur Byrne, I mean," she corrected herself.

"You might telegraph to him," urged Lord Ashiel. "And I, myself, will write. You might mention my sister to him. I think he used to know her. Mrs. John Haviland. But, indeed, it is very important that you should come, more important than you think, perhaps."

He seemed extraordinarily anxious, now, lest she should refuse.

"Perhaps," suggested Mr. Findlay, "Miss Byrne would like to think over the idea, and let you know later in the day."

"A very good plan," said Lord Ashiel. "Yes, of course you would like to think it over. Will you telephone to me at the Carlton after lunch? Thanks so much. Good-bye for the present."

He seized his hat and stick and darted to the door. "You talk to her, Findlay!" he cried, and disappeared.

Juliet and Mr. Findlay were left confronting one another.