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 and I think they did have a child. I seem to have heard it mentioned, but, of course, that was long before I was born.”

“Oh, I see,” said Jamie.

“And I might as well tell you, if you are in charge here, that Mamma and Papa never could agree. They were always having difficulties, and at last she was forced to secure a divorce. She could not live with a man so irritable and exacting, a man who never wanted to do anything but drone over a book or occupy himself with some kind of highbrow stuff that nobody human ever could have been interested in. I didn’t blame her a bit. I was entirely on her side. After she got the divorce, Papa went somewhere. She never knew where he had gone. He did not communicate with us directly. His lawyer sent the money for my support, and I suppose it is to him that I shall have to appeal to secure the property which rightfully belongs to me as his only child, his only living heir.”

“Has nobody told you,” asked Jamie, “that the Bee Master left a will in which he bequeathed this property to a partner he has had for a period of several years, and to me?”

The young lady laughed pleasantly.

“There was a rumour. Somebody said something about there being no effects—possibly a letter from a nurse at the hospital where Papa died—but, of course, when people here know that I am Miss Worthington and Papa’s only child, there isn’t going to be any question as to whom the place rightfully belongs.”