There was a queer note in her voice as she put the question; it sounded
almost like a touch of jealousy.

"No; her husband gave it to me,--after she died," I said sadly.

"Her husband! She was married, then. Who was he?"

"A man worthy of her; but I'd rather not talk about them,--not just at
present; it's too painful."

"Oh, Maurice, I'm so sorry," she murmured in swift penitence; and to my
great relief she questioned me no more for that evening.

But I told the whole story, so far as I knew it, to Pendennis and Jim,
after the rest of the household had gone to bed; and we sat till the
small hours, comparing notes and discussing the whole matter, which
still presented many perplexing points.

I omitted nothing; I said how I had seen Anne--as I believed then and
until this day--in that boat on the Thames; how I had suspected,--felt
certain,--that she had been to Cassavetti's rooms that night, and was
cognizant of his murder; what I had learned from Mr. Treherne, down in
Cornwall, and everything of importance that had happened since.

Jim punctuated the story with exclamations and comments, but Anthony
Pendennis listened almost in silence, though when I came to the part
about the mad woman from Siberia, who had died at the hunting-lodge, and
who was spoken of as the Countess Vassilitzi, he started, and made a
queer sound, like a groan, though he signed to me to continue. I was
glad afterwards that I hadn't described what she looked like. He was a
grave, stern man, wonderfully self-possessed.

"It is a strange story," he said, when I had finished. "A mysterious
one."

"Do you hold the key to the mystery?" I asked him pointblank.

"No, though I can shed a little light on it; a very little, and I fear
even that will only make the rest more obscure. But it is only right
that I should give you confidence for confidence, Mr. Wynn; since you
have suffered so much through your love for my daughter,--and through
the machinations of this unhappy woman who certainly impersonated
her,--for her own purposes."

I winced at that. Although I knew now that "the unhappy woman" was not
she whom I loved, it hurt me to hear her spoken of in that stern,
condemnatory way; but I let it pass. I wanted to hear his version.

CHAPTER LII

THE WHOLE TRUTH

"She must have been one of the Vassilitzis, and therefore Anne's near
kinswoman," Pendennis said slowly. "You say she was often spoken of as
Anna Petrovna? That explains no