This was a year before his father's death.

The girl was unmoved.
"I see that I should come here with proofs," she exclaimed.

"Well, they are easy enough to collect.

You shall have them.

But before I go, Lord Arranmore, let me ask you if you know who I am." "I understand," Lord Arranmore answered, "that you are the daughter or niece of a highly respectable tradesman in Medchester, who is a client of our young friend here, Mr.Brooks.Let me tell you, young lady, that but for that fact I should not--tolerate your presence here." "I am Mr.Bullsom's niece," the girl answered, "but I am the daughter of Martin Scott Cartnell!" It seemed to Brooks that a smothered exclamation of some sort broke from Lord Arranmore's tightly compressed lips, but his face was so completely in the shadow that its expression was lost.