d
lady--and justly so. Now that I recollected, her conduct at table on
the previous night was remarkable, having regard to the true facts of
the case. I confess I had myself been entirely deceived into believing
that her sorrow at Henry Courtenay's death was unbounded. In every
detail her acting was perfect, and bound to attract sympathy among her
friends and arouse interest among strangers. I longed to explain to
the quiet, charming old lady what I had seen during my midnight
ramble; but such a course was, as yet, impossible. Indeed, if I made a
plain statement, such as I have given in the foregoing pages, surely
no one would believe me. But every man has his romance, and this was
mine.

Unable to reveal Mary's secret, I was compelled reluctantly to take
leave of her mother, who accompanied me out to where the dog-cart was
in waiting.

"I scarcely know, doctor, how to thank you sufficiently," the dear old
lady said as I took her hand. "What you have told me reassures me. Of
late I have been extremely anxious, as you may imagine."

"You need feel no anxiety," I declared. "She's nervous and run
down--that's all. Take her away for a change, if possible. But if she
refuses, don't force her. Quiet is the chief medicine in her case.
Good-bye."

She pressed my hand again in grateful acknowledgment, and then I
mounted into the conveyance and was driven to the station.

On the journey back to town I pondered long and deeply. Of a verity my
short visit to Mrs. Mivart had been fraught with good results, and I
was contemplating seeking Ambler Jevons at the earliest possible
moment and relating to him my astounding discovery. The fact that old
Courtenay was still living was absolutely beyond my comprehension. To
endeavour to form any theory, or to try and account for the
bewildering phenomenon, was utterly useless. I had seen him, and had
overheard his words. I could surely believe my eyes and ears. And
there it ended. The why and wherefore I put aside for the present,
remembering Mary's promise to him to come to town and have an
interview with me.

Surely that meeting ought to be most interesting. I awaited it with
the most intense anxiety, and yet in fear lest I might be led by her
clever imposture to blurt out what I knew. I felt myself on the eve of
a startling revelation; and my expectations were realized to the full,
as the further portion of this strange romance will show.

I know that many narratives have been wri