'I have no desire to know. Your meaning, lately, is a puzzle to which I have no clue; nor wish for any. I have no taste for the twists and turns of a disordered brain.'

'Douglas! You didn't use to speak to me like that--before.'

'You mean before you developed your new fancy for prying into matters which are no concern of yours; and, in consequence, discovering mountains where there are not even molehills.'

'I have heard it stated that, when it comes to the sticking-point, a woman has more courage than a man; but I never dreamed, Douglas, to learn that it was true of you.'

'Fools, my dear Edith, step in where angels fear to tread.'

It appeared to dawn on her more quickly than it did on him that they were beginning to talk to each other in a way which wasn't exactly dignified in the presence of a stranger. Her voice and manner both changed as she came farther into the room, holding Jimmy with one hand, and Pollie with the other.

'Come, Douglas, let's play the game. You've often said it to me; now it seems as if it were my turn to say it to you.'

'You see, Edith, it depends on what is your idea of what you call the game. Unfortunately it sometimes happens that the feminine idea is a peculiar one.'

'My idea, on the present occasion, is to be frank, honest, and above-board; to use another phrase of yours, to face the music.'

'I'm afraid the music you want to face comes from a very funny sort of band.'

'Douglas, let's stop chopping phrases, you and I. Let me introduce you to some one instead.'

'Introduce me? What do you mean?'

'Let me introduce you to the Marquis of Twickenham.'

He had turned. Now he stared. I stared too. What she meant I did not understand, if he did.

'Edith! are you stark, staring mad?'

'Douglas, haven't you heard that it's a symptom of insanity to hurl at others reckless accusations of insanity. I can say to you, with Paul, I am not mad. But I am beginning to wonder if, somewhere deep down in your heart, you are not inclined to credit me with being something worse. For the second time let me ask your permission to make you known to the Marquis of Twickenham.'

She held Jimmy a little forward. What she meant I still had not the faintest notion. But it was plain that Mr. Howarth had. I could see that he shook; but whether it was pa.s.sion or not was more than I could say.

'Edith, you are--you are making a serious mistake. Be careful; before you do mischief which you may be never able to undo.'

She looked at him for a second, as if she didn't catch what he meant.

Then she took up one of James's likenesses.

'Isn't that Leonard?'

'No; it is not.'

'Douglas!--are you seriously saying that to me?'

'I tell you it is not. You are under a complete misapprehension. I am not able, nor, at this moment, am I willing, to tell you what the facts of the case actually are, but I do a.s.sure you of this--and I beg you to be so good as to remember that I have never told you a falsehood in my life--that the original of that photograph is not the person you suppose; and that any conclusions you may deduce from the supposition that he is are erroneous.'

'Douglas, in reply, shall I tell you what I think? Not all; for that would be to entirely destroy the whole fabric on which my life has been reared; but in part.'

'Edith, I entreat you to be warned in time; before the mischief's done beyond repair. Whatever you have to say to me say when we're alone.'

'You've not allowed me to say anything even when we've been alone; you've always wished to put a lock upon my lips. And think what you have said to me! No; it will not do. By some process of reasoning which is beyond my comprehension you appear to have made a compromise with your own conscience which will be productive of more evil than that of which you are afraid.'

'Afraid!--I am afraid of nothing.'

'Of nothing? And yet you're afraid that I should speak; and do not dare to speak yourself.'

I simply fear your rashness.'

Then, indeed, my dear Douglas, you are afraid of nothing; for I'm not of that const.i.tution from which rashness springs. The truth is, you exaggerate. Your life has been so dominated by a single hope that, now a new factor appears, you over-estimate the consequences which may accrue. I have always held it better policy to look the truth straight in the face; and, until now, I have imagined that you thought with me.'

'And you've been right. In this case I tell you again and again, that what you take to be the truth is not the truth.'

'Douglas, all our lives we have known each other, but until now I have not known you to be this man.'

What she meant I couldn't say; whatever it was, it made him turn away from her.

'Edith! You're--you're doing me a great injustice.'

Her voice faltered when she spoke again.

'Is this--is this to be parting of the ways? Won't you speak, and so save me from shaming you?'

'You'll shame yourself if you will not be advised by me.'

'Then I'll be shamed. For I'm of opinion that to be a party to the concealment of what I deem to be the truth, now that I know it, would be to make my shame much more.' She lifted Jimmy in her arms. 'My little man, it's my sad duty to have to inform you that you're the Most Honourable the Marquis of Twickenham. My Lord Marquis, I salute you.'

She kissed him. It was plain that Jimmy had no more notion why she did it, or what was the meaning of her hotch-potch of words, than I had.

He wasn't very far from crying.

I had been listening to their going at it hammer and tongs, in a genteel sort of way, with, strong on me, a growing feeling that the world was turning topsy-turvy. When she said that to my boy I at last had a chance of getting a word in edgeways.

'If you please, miss, what was that you said to Jimmy?'

For answer she set down Jimmy and picked up his father's likeness.

'You say that this was your husband?'

'Yes, miss; he was; and is.'

'Then, my dear, in that case you're the Marchioness of Twickenham.'

'Miss! What--what's that you say?'

'I say that you're the Marchioness of Twickenham, since it's certain your husband was the Marquis; and I say also that your son, reigning in his stead, is the Marquis of Twickenham now.'

'I--I don't understand.'

My heart was beating against my ribs--oh, dear!