r. Copley divined the question,
which she hardly knew how to put into words. He produced a sheet of
notepaper, containing a few memoranda, and passed it across the table.

"That was to refresh my memory if necessary; but happily it isn't. Mr.
Campion may like to see it however. He will find it is all correct. I
knew I was right in asking to see you, ma'am."

Nan did not look at the memoranda. She was satisfied that she had the
details before her for her own or Sydney's consideration if necessary.
She signed her cheque and took possession of the dishonored bill; and
then Mr. Copley departed.

When he was gone, she caught up the sheet of paper and hastily glanced
at it.

"1880--studs, pin, money advanced L50. 1881--ring, money advanced L100;
bracelet, necklace, pendant, money advanced L150----" and so on. Further
down the page, Nan's eye was caught by the words: "Diamond and sapphire
ring."

"Ah!" she said, catching her breath as if she were in pain, and laying
the paper down on the table, "_that_ was mine!"

The ring was on her finger as she spoke. It had been her engagement
ring. She looked at it for a minute or two, then slowly, took it off and
put it into the drawer.

Next, with an absent look upon her face, she took up a small taper, and
lighted it; and, holding Mr. Copley's paper by one corner, she raised it
to the flame and converted it into ashes. One line escaped. A fragment
of the paper was scorched but not consumed, and as she took it up to
make her work more thorough, the words and a date caught her attention
once again.

"Bracelet, necklace, pendant, bought after we knew each other," she
murmured with a curious smile. "Those were _not_ for me. I wonder----"

But she did not go on. It was the first time that a shadow from Sydney's
past had crossed her life; and she dared not investigate it too closely.
She put the bill and her cheque-book out of sight, and sat down to think
over the present position of affairs.

Sydney came home just before lunch-time, and, hearing that she was in
her own little sitting-room (she would not have it called a boudoir),
went up to her. He looked vexed and anxious, as Nan was quick to notice,
but he came up to her side and kissed her affectionately.

"Better, Nan?" She had not been very well when he left her: indeed, the
delicacy of her health had lately been more marked, and had several
times given him cause for uneasiness.

"Yes, thank you. But you don't look well,