As a last resource against Cecil Morphew's degeneration, Harvey had given up his daily work in Westminster Bridge Road. 'I shall go no more,' he wrote. 'I am quite unable to manage the business alone, and if you won't attend to it, it must smash. But please to remember that I took a share on certain conditions.' For a week he had stayed at home.

Morphew did not reply, but the fact that no appeals arrived from the trusty shopman seemed to prove that this last step had been effectual.

This morning Rolfe was half-minded to go up to town, but decided that he had better not. Thus the telegram from Oxford and Cambridge Mansions came into his hands at about twelve o'clock.

Alma, after giving Hughie his morning's lesson, had gone out with him for an hour. As soon as she returned, Harvey showed her the message.

'Why does he want both of us to go?' he asked uneasily.

Alma merely shook her head, as if the matter interested her very little, and turned to leave the room again.

'I think I had better go alone,' said Harvey, his eyes on the telegram.

'Just as you like,' answered Alma, and withdrew.

She spent the afternoon much as usual. Rolfe had said at lunch that he would go to Carnaby's immediately after dinner. Mrs. Langland and one of her daughters called; they thought Mrs. Rolfe rather absent-minded, but noticed nothing else. At dinner-time she said carelessly to her husband----

'I think I had better go with you, as I was asked.'

'No, no; I think not.'

'I had rather, Harvey, if you don't mind. I am quite ready; shall only have to put my hat on.'

He made no further objection, but looked a little displeased, and was silent through the meal.

They travelled by rail to Edgware Road, exchanging scarce a word on the way. On the stairs of the Mansions, Alma found the ascent too much for her; she stopped, and put out a hand to support herself. Rolfe looked round.

'Nothing. You have made me walk rather quickly.'

'I'm sorry. Rest a moment.'

But Alma hastened upwards.

They were shown at once into the drawing-room, where Mrs. Carnaby, who was sitting alone, rose at the announcement of their names. Alma stepped forwards, and seemed about to offer her hand, but she was disregarded. Their hostess stood with her eyes on Rolfe, who, observing the strangeness of this reception, bowed and said nothing.

'It was I who sent the telegram, Mr. Rolfe.' Sibyl's voice had its wonted refinement, and hardly disturbed the silence. 'My husband would have postponed the pleasure of seeing you, but I thought it better you should meet him at once.' Her finger touched an electric bell. 'And I particularly wished Mrs. Rolfe to be with you; I am so glad she was able to come. Pray sit down.'

Harvey, with no thought of accepting this invitation, cast stern glances at the speaker and at his wife.

'What does all this mean, Mrs. Carnaby?'

'Your old friend will tell you.'

The door had opened, and Hugh Carnaby slouched in. At the sight of Alma he stood still. Then meeting Harvey's eyes, he exclaimed, with hoa.r.s.e indistinctness, 'Rolfe!' Each advanced, and their hands clasped.

'Rolfe!--old fellow!--I'm the most miserable devil on earth.'

Tears were in his eyes and in his voice. He held Harvey's hand tight prisoned in both his own, and stood tottering like a feeble old man.

'Old friend, I can't help myself--don't feel hard against me--I have to tell you something.'

He looked towards Alma, who was motionless. Sibyl had sat down, and watched as at a play, but with no smile.

'Come into the next room with me,' added the choking voice.

'No. Here, if you please, Hugh,' sounded with gentle firmness.

'Sibyl--then tell it. I can't.'

'It's a simple story, Mr. Rolfe,' began Sibyl. 'I am sure you are not aware that Mrs. Rolfe, ever since our great misfortune, has lost no opportunity of slandering me. She has told people, in plain words, that she knew me to be guilty of what my husband was for a moment trapped into suspecting. Among others, she told it to her friend Miss Leach.

Not long ago, she went so far as to call upon me here and accuse me to my face, telling me I was afraid of what she knew against me. I have thought of taking legal measures to protect myself; perhaps I shall still do so. Today something has come to my knowledge which possibly explains Mrs. Rolfe's singular malice. My husband tells me--and it's a sad pity he kept it a secret so long--that there was a third person present that evening when he came upon Mr. Redgrave. I dare say you remember the details of the story told in court. All was perfectly true; but my husband should have added that a woman was with Mr.

Redgrave, talking alone with him in the dark; and when the blow had been struck, this woman, who had quickly disappeared from the veranda into the house, was found to be Mrs. Rolfe.'

Hugh's hand had fallen on to his friend's shoulder. He spoke as soon as Sibyl ceased.

'She said she had done no wrong. I had no proof of any--no proof whatever.'

Rolfe was looking at Alma. She, through the unimpa.s.sioned arraignment, stood with eyes fixed upon her enemy, rather as if lost in thought than listening; her mouth was tortured into a smile, her forehead had the lines of age and misery. At the sound of Hugh's voice, she turned to him, and spoke like one recovering consciousness.

'You have told the truth.'

'Why did you compel me to make this known, Mrs. Rolfe?'

'Oh, that's quite a mistake. It was she who made you tell it--as she will make you do anything, and believe anything, she likes. I can imagine how delighted she was. But it doesn't matter. If you care to know it, either of you'--she included Carnaby and her husband in one glance, as equally remote from her--'I haven't gone about seeking to injure her. Perhaps I let one or two people know what I thought; but they had heard the truth already. It wasn't prudent; and it wasn't a right return for the kindness you had shown me, Mr. Carnaby. But I'm not sure that I should have done better in helping to deceive you. Has she anything more to say? If not, I will leave you to talk about it.'

The tone of this speech, so indifferent that it seemed light-headed, struck the hearers mute. Rolfe, speaking for the first time since Hugh's entrance, said at length, with troubled sternness----

'Alma, you have repeated your charge against Mrs. Carnaby; what grounds have you for it?'

She looked at him with a vague smile, but did not answer.

'Surely you don't make an accusation of this kind without some proof?'

'Harvey!' The cry quivered on a laugh. 'O Harvey! who would know you with that face?'

Sibyl rose. The men exchanged a quick glance. Rolfe moved to his wife's side, and touched her.

'Yes, yes, I _know_,' she went on, drawing away--'I know what you asked me. Keep quiet, just a little. There are three of you, and it's hard for me alone. It isn't so easy to make _you_ believe things, Harvey. Of course, I knew how it would be if this came out. I can tell you, but not now; some other time, when we are alone. You won't believe me; I always knew _I_ shouldn't be believed. I ought to have been cautious, and have kept friends with her. But it wasn't as if I had anything to hide--anything that mattered. Let me go, and leave you three to talk.

And when you come home----'

Turning, looking for the door, she fell softly on to her knees. In a moment Harvey had raised her, and seated her in the chair which Hugh pushed forward. Sibyl, motionless, looked on. Seeing that Alma had not lost consciousness, she awaited her next word.

'We will go away,' said Hugh, under his breath; and he beckoned to Sibyl. Reluctantly she took a step towards him, but was stopped by Alma's voice.

'Don't go on my account. Haven't _you_ any question to ask me? When I go, I shan't be anxious to see you again. Don't look frightened; I know what I am talking about. My head went round for a moment--and no wonder. Stand there, face to face.--Leave me alone, Harvey; I can stand very well. I want her to ask me anything she has to ask. It's her only chance, now. I won't see her again--never after this.'

'Mrs. Carnaby,' said Rolfe, 'there must be an end of it. You had better ask Alma what she has against you.'

Sibyl, summoning all her cold dignity, stood before the half-distraught woman, and looked her in the eyes.

'What harm or wrong have I done you, Mrs. Rolfe, that you hate me so?'