He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. “Of course it is okay!” Cathy’s voice rose in volume and in pitch. “I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me. ’ ‘Then you will not be disappointed. "Ah!" exclaimed Sir James. “Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense. Very well! I will try to help you.
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