er mental resources might have felt at a loss how to
act for the best, in the emergency that now confronted him. While he was
still as far as ever from arriving at a decision, some person knocked at
the door.

Had Mrs. Zant returned? He looked up as the door was opened, and saw to
his astonishment--Mr. John Zant's housekeeper.

"Don't let me alarm you, sir," the woman said. "Mrs. Zant has been taken
a little faint, at the door of our house. My master is attending to
her."

"Where is the child?" Mr. Rayburn asked.

"I was bringing her back to you, sir, when we met a lady and her little
girl at the door of the hotel. They were on their way to the beach--and
Miss Lucy begged hard to be allowed to go with them. The lady said the
two children were playfellows, and she was sure you would not object."

"The lady is quite right. Mrs. Zant's illness is not serious, I hope?"

"I think not, sir. But I should like to say something in her interests.
May I? Thank you." She advanced a step nearer to him, and spoke her next
words in a whisper. "Take Mrs. Zant away from this place, and lose no
time in doing it."

Mr. Rayburn was on his guard. He merely asked: "Why?"

The housekeeper answered in a curiously indirect manner--partly in jest,
as it seemed, and partly in earnest.

"When a man has lost his wife," she said, "there's some difference of
opinion in Parliament, as I hear, whether he does right or wrong, if
he marries his wife's sister. Wait a bit! I'm coming to the point. My
master is one who has a long head on his shoulders; he sees consequences
which escape the notice of people like me. In his way of thinking,
if one man may marry his wife's sister, and no harm done, where's the
objection if another man pays a compliment to the family, and marries
his brother's widow? My master, if you please, is that other man. Take
the widow away before she marries him."

This was beyond endurance.

"You insult Mrs. Zant," Mr. Rayburn answered, "if you suppose that such
a thing is possible!"

"Oh! I insult her, do I? Listen to me. One of three things will
happen. She will be entrapped into consenting to it--or frightened into
consenting to it--or drugged into consenting to it--"

Mr. Rayburn was too indignant to let her go on.

"You are talking nonsense," he said. "There can be no marriage; the law
forbids it."

"Are you one of the people who see no further than their noses?" she
asked insolently. "Won't the law take his mon