e eyes gazed on him defiantly.

"I certainly shall not. I demand a full explanation, Andrew!"

"Go away, will you!"

For answer she sat down firmly upon the sofa.

"Papa, papa, don't be rough with her," expostulated the youth.

Andrew confronted him indignantly.

"That's enough of this nonsense!" he thundered. "What d'ye mean? Who are
you?"

"Doesn't the voice of nature tell you?" the youth inquired sadly.

"The voice of nature be damned!"

The young man turned to the cold lady on the sofa.

"Stepmother," he asked, "will you protect me?"

She looked at him at first stonily, and then suddenly more kindly. He
was remarkably good-looking, with such nice bright eyes, and a manner
difficult to resist.

"I shall certainly see that justice is done you," she replied.

The young man seated himself beside her and took her hand.

"Thank you," he murmured affectionately.

Andrew swore aloud and vigorously, but the pale eyes never flinched.

"Do you mean deliberately to tell me you don't know who this young man
is?" she demanded.

Put in that form, the question made him hesitate for an instant. The
hesitation did honor to his sense of veracity, but it finally cost him
the remains of his character.

"You needn't trouble to answer!" she cried. "You _do_ know who he is.
Come, you had better tell me all about it at once. I presume you have
not been _married_ previously?"

The youth spoke quickly.

"You don't think father was so scandalous as not to marry her?"

"Did you?" she demanded.

The luckless Writer fell into the trap. It seemed to him a gleam of
hope--a chance of saving his precious reputation.

"Er--ye--es," he stammered.

"You were married?" she cried.

There was a dreadful pause, and then abruptly she demanded, "What became
of her?"

A dark frown answered this pertinent inquiry. She turned to the young
man.

"Do you know?"

He seemed to have some difficulty in controlling his voice as he
answered--

"She lives in London."

"Lives!" shrieked the lady. "Andrew--you are a bigamist! And I--I am
not lawfully--"

She leapt up and gave him one terrible look; and before he could speak
she had swept wrathfully from the room.

And then the most surprising thing occurred. Instead of continuing his
filial overtures, the young man sank into the corner of the sofa and
burst into peal upon peal of boyish laughter.

"Oh, my dear Andrew!" he gasped. "Oh, I can't help it--you a bigamist!
Poor respe