was concealed from him, and also from Wilderspin and
Sinfi. On my left stood Cyril's caricature of Wilderspin's 'Faith and
Love,' upon which the light from a window was falling aslant!

Before I could pass round the easel into the open space I was
arrested by overhearing a conversation between Cyril, Sinfi, and
Wilderspin.

They were talking about _her_!

With my eyes fixed on Cyril's caricature on my left hand; I stood,
every nerve in my body seeming to listen to the talk, while the veil
of the goddess-queen in the caricature appeared to become
illuminated; the tragedy of our love (from the spectacle of her
father's dead body shining in the moonlight, with a cross on his
breast, down to the hideous-grotesque scene of the woman at the
corner of Essex Street) appeared to be represented on the veil of the
mocking queen in little pictures of scorching flame. These are the
words I heard:

'Keep your head in that position, Lady Sinfi,' said Cyril, 'and pray
do not get so excited.'

'I thought I felt the Swimmin' Rei in the room,' said Sinfi.

'What do you mean?'

'I thought I felt the stir of him in my burk [bosom]. Howsomever, it
must ha' bin all a fancy o' mine. But you see, Mr. Cyril, she wur
once a friend o' mine. I want to know what skeared her? If it _was_
her as set for the pictur, she'd never 'a' had the fit if she hadn't,
'a' bin skeared. I s'pose Mr. Wilderspin didn't go an' say the word
"feyther" to her? I s'pose he didn't go an' ax her who her feyther
was?'

I heard Wilderspin's voice say. 'No, indeed. _I_ would never have
asked who her father was. Ah, Mr. Cyril, I knew how mysteriously she
had come to me; why should I ask who was her father? Her earthly
parentage was not an illusion. But you will remember that I was not
in the studio at the time of the fit. Mr. Ebury had called about a
commission, and I had gone into the next room to speak to him. You
came into the studio at the time, Mr. Cyril. When I returned, I found
her in the fit, and you standing over her.'

'No, don't get up, Sinfi, my girl,' I heard Cyril say. 'Sit down
quietly, and I will tell you what, passed. There is no doubt I did
ask her about her father, poor thing; but I did it with the best
intentions--did it for her good, as I thought--did it to learn
whether she had been kidnapped, and certainly not from idle
curiosity.'

'Scepticism, the curse of the age,' said Wilderspin.

I heard Cyril say, 'Who could have thought it would