“To be sure. You can tie up the estate for half
a dozen years if you like,” he replied coolly. He did
not look upon me as likely to become a formidable
litigant. My staying qualities had been proved weak
long ago, as Pickering knew well enough.

“No doubt you would like that,” I answered. “But
I’m not going to give you the pleasure. I abide by the
terms of the will. My grandfather was a fine old gentleman.
I shan’t drag his name through the courts,
not even to please you, Arthur Pickering,” I declared
hotly.

“The sentiment is worthy of a good man, Glenarm,”
he rejoined.

“But this woman who is to succeed to my rights,—I
don’t seem to remember her.”

“It is not surprising that you never heard of her.”

“Then she’s not a connection of the family,—no long-lost
cousin whom I ought to remember?”

“No; she was a late acquaintance of your grandfather’s.
He met her through an old friend of his,—
Miss Evans, known as Sister Theresa. Miss Devereux
is Sister Theresa’s niece.”