-she is a devoted sister, and lives with the
other's _smalah_. As to her own private life, she has been for many
years the friend of Achille de Florac. She became acquainted with him
not long before his final crash; who knows, perhaps she helped to
precipitate it! It is to be hoped she did, for since then he has
practically lived on her. And so, my dear aunt, she is in a sense our
cousin _de la main gauche_!"

Vanderlyn looked away from Madame de Lera. He was sorry the young man
had been so frank, for the Marquis de Florac was not only by birth a
member of her circle, but he was, as Jacques rather cruelly pointed out,
a connection of the de Lera family.

"Poor creature!" exclaimed Adele de Lera; her voice was filled with
involuntary pity.

"Yes," continued Jacques, in answer to her look, "you may well say 'poor
creature!' For it's from La d'Elphis that our disreputable cousin draws
the major part of his uncertain revenues. When Paris is credulous, his
credit goes up, and he has plenty of money to play with. I'm told that
the other night he lost ten thousand francs at 'Monaco Junior'!"

Vanderlyn made a slight movement. "Yes," he said, "that is true,--I was
there."

"In the lean months," continued Jacques, who did not often find his
conversation listened to with such respect and attention as was now the
case, "I mean, of course, in the summer--poor Florac has to retrench,
but La d'Elphis does not remain idle. She goes to Aix, to Vichy, to
Dieppe for the Grande Semaine,--in fact, wherever rich foreigners
gather; and wherever she goes she finds plenty eager to consult her!"

"Is that all you wanted to know?" said Madame de Lera to Vanderlyn.

"Yes," he said, slowly, "that is all. I did not know--I had no
idea--that our poor old world was still so credulous!"

XI.

As Vanderlyn walked away from Madame de Lera's door, the plan, of which
the first outline had come to him while she was telling the strange
story concerning the fortune-teller and her niece, had taken final
shape; and it now impressed itself upon him as the only way out of his
terrible dilemma.

Vanderlyn was by nature a truthful man, and in spite of the ambiguous
nature of his relations with Margaret Pargeter, he had never been
compelled to lie in defence of their friendship. Even during these last
few days, he had as far as was possible avoided untruth, and only to one
person, that is, to the Prefect of Police, had he lied--lied
desperately