Secret Heiress by Lillian; Shelley

believe what I am hearing. If your late parents could hear you . . .” He wrung his hands.
    â€œIf my father had not left those provisions in his will denying me access to my fortune for another five years, I would not be facing ruin now!” interrupted Adrian. He stood up. “If I had known you were going to give me a lecture, I wouldn’t have come.” He turned and strode out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him.
    â€œIndeed!” exclaimed Mr. Stokes. “Indeed! That the Bradfords—such an old and distinguished family—should come to this.” He shook his head. “I never thought I would see this day.”
    By the tune he had reached the street, Adrian’s anger had dissipated. His temper was erratic, but he found anger difficult to sustain and he never held a grudge. He tried to think of how he could turn the meeting with Miss Chessington to good account. The first thing was to find out more about her. Single young women of his acquaintance did not frequent the business offices of the City. Only one in charge of her own affairs would make such a visit. Only one secure in her position would risk the disapprobation of Society. What but a great fortune could give her this security? Neither a great name nor great beauty explained it. No, he must find out more about her, and the place to start was Stokes’s office.
    As Adrian thought, he slowly mounted the stairs to Stokes’s office again. He opened the door slightly and looked inside. Stokes’s door was closed and he appeared to be talking with that fuss-budget assistant of his. Only the clerk was in the outer office. Before going inside, Adrian removed his gloves and put them inside his jacket. He then went inside. The clerk looked up as he entered.
    â€œCrippen, I seem to have misplaced my gloves. Have you seen them?”
    â€œNo, sir, I can’t say as I have,” replied the clerk.
    â€œHow very annoying,” said Adrian. “I can scarcely go to Lady Effington’s without my gloves.”
    â€œNo, sir,” said the clerk.
    â€œBy the by,” said Adrian, approaching the clerk, “a fine-looking woman, Miss Chessington. I would really like to know more about her.”
    â€œI can’t tell you anything about her, sir,” said Crippen. “It would be worth my job.” He looked expectant.
    Adrian held out a sovereign and slipped it into the clerk’s palm. “Can you tell me about her now?”
    Crippen looked at the gold coin in his hand and carefully shifted it to his pocket. “Miss Chessington,” he said woodenly, “is an heiress. From Lancashire, she is. Worth a ransom, but she don’t want anyone to know that she’s so plump in the pocket.”
    â€œWhyever not?” exclaimed Adrian. “If I had a fortune, I’d certainly let everyone know!”
    Crippen held out his hand. Adrian looked at it and slipped another coin into it
    â€œI overheard Old Stokesy telling Potts that she wants to be liked for herself and not for her money,” continued Crippen as he transferred the new coin to his pocket. “Myself, I can’t say I see it.”
    Adrian was much in sympathy with this sentiment. “Know where she lives, Crippen?” he asked.
    Crippen was silent as he looked at Adrian. Adrian, exasperated, pulled out a third coin and handed it to Crippen.
    â€œNo, sir, I’m afraid I don’t,” he said as he slipped the coin into his bulging pocket.
    Adrian looked at him in amazement. “Why, you thief!” he exclaimed. He stormed out of the office, slamming the door a second time. The noise brought Mr. Stokes and his assistant to the door.
    â€œWhat’s going on here, Crippen?” asked Stokes sternly.
    â€œNuthin’, sir.”
    â€œWho was at the door then?”
    â€œJust Mr. Bradford looking for his gloves, sir. He’s right excitable. When I didn’t have them, he slammed the