"That was before I left Harrow, and Christmas time. Seventeen almost,
within a couple of weeks."
"So your cousin Margaret was sixteen?"
"Yes."
"She was remarkably tall, well-developed for her age."
"That was a notable characteristic from an early age. We boys used to call
her 'Mama,' when we wanted to vex her."
"The three old gentlemen are very much alike. This is the baronet. Who are
the others?"
"My father and uncle."
"What! Do you mean to tell me there to another branch of the family?"
"Well, yes, in a sense. My uncle is dead. His son, my age or a little
older, for the youngest of the three brothers was married first, was last
heard of in Argentina."
Brett threw the photograph down with clatter.
"Good Heavens!" he vociferated, "when shall I begin to comprehend this
business in its entirety? How many more uncles, and aunts, and cousins
have you?"
Amazed by this outburst, Hume endeavoured to put matters right.
"I never thought--" he commenced.
"You come to me to do the thinking, Hume. For goodness' sake switch your
memory for five minutes from Miss Layton, and tell me all you know of your
family history. Have you any other relations?"
"None whatever."
"And this newly-arrived cousin, what of him?"
"He was in the navy, and being of a quarrelsome disposition, was
court-martialled for some small outbreak.
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