o listen to, Lionel, is it?'
Laura said, wearily.

'Why, you don't want to go to bed at nine o'clock, do you? That's all
rot, of course. But I want you to help me.'

'To help you--how?'

'I'll tell you--but you must give me my head. I don't know what I said
to you before dinner--I had had too many brandy and sodas. Perhaps I was
too free; if I was I beg your pardon. I made the governess bolt--very
proper in the superintendent of one's children. Do you suppose they saw
anything? I shouldn't care for that. I did take half a dozen or so; I
was thirsty and I was awfully gratified.'

'You have little enough to gratify you.'

'Now that's just where you are wrong. I don't know when I've fancied
anything so much as what I told you.'

'What you told me?'

'About her being in Paris. I hope she'll stay a month!'

'I don't understand you,' Laura said.

'Are you very sure, Laura? My dear, it suits my book! Now you know
yourself he's not the first.'

Laura was silent; his round eyes were fixed on her face and she saw
something she had not seen before--a little shining point which on
Lionel's part might represent an idea, but which made his expression
conscious as well as eager. 'He?' she presently asked. 'Whom are you
speaking of?'

'Why, of Charley Crispin, G----' And Lionel Berrington accompanied this
name with a startling imprecation.

'What has he to do----?'

'He has everything to do. Isn't he with her there?'

'How should I know? You said Lady Ringrose.'

'Lady Ringrose is a mere blind--and a devilish poor one at that. I'm
sorry to have to say it to you, but he's her lover. I mean Selina's. And
he ain't the first.'

There was another short silence while they stood opposed, and then Laura
asked--and the question was unexpected--'Why do you call him Charley?'

'Doesn't he call me Lion, like all the rest?' said her brother-in-law,
staring.

'You're the most extraordinary people. I suppose you have a certain
amount of proof before you say such things to me?'

'Proof, I've oceans of proof! And not only about Crispin, but about
Deepmere.'

'And pray who is Deepmere?'

'Did you never hear of Lord Deepmere? He has gone to India. That was
before you came. I don't say all this for my pleasure, Laura,' Mr.
Berrington added.

'Don't you, indeed?' asked the girl with a singular laugh. 'I thought
you were so glad.'

'I'm glad to know it but I'm not glad to tell it. When I say I'm glad to
know it I mean I'm gl