im by the arm. "What have you to tell me?" she cried.

"To tell you? I? Oh, dear, no, Madame Zabriska! I assure you----"

"Oh, there's no need for that! Harry said you were to tell me before
they arrived; that's why I sent for you now."

"He said I was to tell you----?"

"Yes, yes. Something you knew and I didn't; something that would explain
it all."

She stood before him with clasped hands. "It's quite true; he did say
so," she pleaded. "It's all been so delightful, and yet so strange; and
he told me to be ready either to stay here or to go home to-night! Tell
me, tell me, Mr Neeld!"

"Why didn't he tell you himself?"

"I only saw him alone for an instant after the wedding; and before it he
didn't say a word about there being anything to tell. There's a secret.
What is it?"

He was glad to tell it. He had carried his burden long enough.

"We've all made a great blunder. Harry is Lord Tristram after all."

Mina stood silent for a moment. "Oh!" she gasped. "And he's married
Cecily without telling her?"

"That's what he has done, I regret to say. And I take it that he means
to tell her to-night."

Mina sank into a chair. "What will she do?" she murmured. "What will she
do?"

"There was a mistake--or rather a fraud--about the date of Sir Randolph
Edge's death; his brother knew it. I'll tell you the details if you
like. But that's the end and the sum of it. As to why he didn't
tell--er--his wife sooner, perhaps you know better than I."

"Yes, I know that," she said. And then--it was most inconsiderate, most
painful to Mr Neeld--she began to cry. Unable to bear this climax of
excitement coming on the top of her two days' emotion, she sobbed
hysterically. "They'll be here at seven!" she moaned. "What will happen?
Oh, Mr Neeld! And I know he'll expect me to be calm and--and to carry it
off--and be composed. How can I be?"

"Perhaps a glass of sherry----?" was Mr Neeld's not unreasonable
suggestion.

No, the old brown would not serve here. But without its aid a sudden
change came over Mina. She sprang to her feet and left the tears to
roll down her cheeks untended as she cried,

"What a splendid thing to do! Oh, how like Harry! And it's to be settled
to-night! What can we do to make it go right?"

"I intend to take no responsibility at all," protested Neeld. "I'm here
to speak to the facts if I'm wanted, but----"

"Oh, bother the facts! What are we to do to make her take it properly?"
She gave another