One had only to look at William Standerton in order to realise that he was, what is usually termed, a success in life. His whole appearance gave one this impression; the bold unflinching eyes, the square, resolute chin, the well-moulded lips, and the lofty forehead, showed a determination and ability to succeed that was beyond the ordinary. The son of a hardworking country doctor, it had fallen to his lot to emigrate to Australia at the early age of sixteen. He had not a friend in that vast, but

Childerbridge Manor is certainly one of the finest mansions in the County of Midlandshire. It stands in a finely-timbered park of about two hundred acres, which rises behind the house to a considerable elevation. The building itself dates back to the reign of Good Queen Bess, and is declared by competent authorities to be an excellent example of the architecture of that period. It is large, and presents a most imposing appearance as one approaches it by the carriage drive. The interior is pictur

On reaching the house, Jim bade the butler inform his master that Mr. Standerton would like to see him. Isaac looked at him as if he were desirous of making sure of his business before he admitted him, then he hobbled off in the direction of his master's study, to presently return with the message that Mr. Bursfield would see Mr. Standerton if he would be pleased to step that way. Jim thereupon followed the old man into the room in which he had first made Abraham Bursfield's acquaintance some fo

It would be almost impossible to describe in fitting words the effect produced upon James Standerton, by the terrible discovery he had made. "What does it mean, Wilkins?" he asked in a voice surcharged with horror. "For God's sake, tell me what it means?" "I don't know myself, sir," the man replied. "It's too terrible for all words. Who can have done it?" Throwing himself on his knees beside his father's body, James took one of the cold hands in his. "Father! father!" he cried, in an ecstasy of

The inquest on the body of William Standerton was held next morning at the George and Dragon Inn in the village, and was attended by more than half the Neighbourhood. The affair had naturally caused an immense sensation in all ranks of Society, and, as the Coroner observed in his opening remarks, universal sympathy was felt for the bereaved family. Wilkins, who had not altogether recovered from the fright he had received on the night before, was the first witness. He stated that he had been the

While the letter from Helen cheered James Standerton wonderfully, it did not in any way help him out of his difficulty with Mr. Bursfield. The latter had most decisively stated his intention not to give his consent to the marriage of his adopted granddaughter with the young Squire of Childerbridge. What his reasons were for taking such a step, neither Jim nor Helen could form any idea. It was a match that most guardians would have been only too thankful to have brought about. In spite of Helen's

It was considerably past midday by the time Jim and his sister, accompanied by Terence, reached London. On arriving at Paddington, they engaged a cab and drove to the hotel they had selected, a private establishment leading out of Piccadilly. Terence's amazement at the size of London was curious to witness. Hitherto he had regarded Melbourne as stupendous, now it struck him that that town was a mere village compared with this giant Metropolis. When he noted the constant stream of traffic, the cr

Before Jim could recover from his astonishment at seeing the man whom he had been led to believe was upon the high seas, standing before him, the cabman had whipped up his horse once more, and was half across the Circus. Springing to his feet, he pushed up the shutter, and bade the driver pull up as quickly as possible. Then, jumping from the cab, he gave the man the first coin he took from his pocket. "Did you see which way that fellow went we so nearly knocked down?" he cried. "Went away towar

Hastening round the gallery of the hall, Jim endeavoured to discover some traces of the mysterious visitor, spectre or human, whom he had seen. The corridor, however, leading to the oldest and western portion of the house, was quite empty. Like the remainder of the building, it was panelled with dark oak, some portion of it being curiously, though richly carved. He searched it up and down, stopping every now and then to listen, but save for the wind sighing round the house, and an occasional bur

"Murbridge found," said Jim to himself as he stood holding the telegram in his hand. "At last, thank goodness, at last!" Alice, however, said nothing. She had more of her dead father's forgiving spirit in her, and she was aware that he would have been the last to have desired vengeance on his assailant. "What do you mean to do?" she asked. "Catch the 8.40 train up to Town," said Jim, "and see Murbridge as soon as possible. The telegram says 'Come at once.' That is sufficient evidence that there

Between the time of Murbridge's funeral and his own arrival at Childerbridge, Jim had plenty of leisure to consider his position, and to make up his mind as to how much he should let Alice know of the other's story. After mature consideration, he decided that he had better tell her everything. Yet it had been such a painful shock to himself that he could well understand how it would affect her. It was mid-morning when he arrived at Childerbridge, and Alice had walked down to the gates to meet hi

Unexpected as the events of the evening had been, Jim Standerton, as he stood in his bedroom before retiring to rest, could not declare that he altogether regretted the turn they had taken. On the morrow he would go to London, and afterwards, armed with the Law's authority, he would make Helen Decie his wife without delay. From that moment Mr. Bursfield might do his worst. Before retiring to his room he had visited Terence, and had received from him a positive assurance that so far all was right