am not secretive like you, Mary," she said between her
sobs. "It is as natural to me to be open and trustful with those I love
as it is for you to be the reverse. Whatever I do you think wrong. But
perhaps some day--and that before long--you will be forced to admit----"

At this moment the drawing-room door opened and Colonel Bellairs came
in. He often came to tea at "The Towers," though the meeting seldom
passed off without a sharp brush with Lady Blore.

"Draw up that chair, Algernon," said that lady, with grim but instant
cordiality. "The tea will be ready in a moment."

Colonel Bellairs looked more floridly handsome than usual. He was
evidently in a state of supreme self-satisfaction.

"Fine day," he said, "for the time of year."

At this moment a small parchment face, and bent figure leaning on a
stick, might have been seen peering in through the closed windows. Sir
John looked dispassionately at the family group, and shook his head.
Then he hobbled back to his chair under the cedar. Tea was evidently a
meal to be dispensed with this afternoon.

"I have news for you," said Colonel Bellairs, expanding his chest.

Lady Blore held the tea-pot suspended.

"Everard Constable--Lossiemouth, I should say--is at this moment sitting
in the drawing-room at Priesthope, alone with Magdalen."

Colonel Bellairs was not disappointed in the effect of his words on his
audience.

Aunt Aggie trembled and looked proudly guilty. Lady Blore put down the
tea-pot suddenly, and said, "Thank God!"

Aunt Aggie, her mouth open to speak, began to choke. She looked
piteously from her brother to her sister, struggling in vain to
articulate. It was too cruel that she should be bereft of speech at this
supreme moment.

Lady Blore turned putty pale and magenta colour alternately. A great
relief softened her hard face. There were actually tears in her eyes.
Then she said majestically, but with a tremor in her metallic voice:

"I am not surprised."

"It is my doing," shrieked Aunt Aggie, in the strangled squeak in which
we always explain that it is "only a crumb" gone wrong. And she relapsed
into a fresh spasm.

Lady Blore sternly bade her be silent. Colonel Bellairs was slightly
annoyed.

"It is no use, Mary, your saying you are not surprised, for you are," he
said judicially, "and really," relapsing into complacency, "so am I in a
way. It is fifteen years since I forbade Everard the house. I fear that
I was unduly harsh. I dismi