e asked his permission to go.'

'This is altogether beyond me,' confessed Mr. Athel, drawing down his
waistcoat and taking a turn across the room. Of course, if they have
been amusing themselves with a kind of game, well, we have nothing to do
but to regret that our invitation to join in it has come rather late.
For my own part, I was disposed to take a somewhat more serious view. Of
course it's no good throwing away one's indignation. I--uh--but what is
your own attitude with regard to this proposal, Mrs. Baxendale?'

'I think I must be content to do my niece's bidding,' said the lady
addressed.

'There's one thing, it seems to me, being lost sight of,' came from Mrs.
Birks, in the disinterested tone of a person who wishes to deliver with
all clearness an unpleasant suggestion. 'We are very much in the dark as
to Miss Hood's--I should say Mrs. Athel's--antecedents. You yourself,'
she regarded Mrs. Baxendale, 'confess that her story is very mysterious.
If we are asked to receive her, really--doesn't this occur to you?'

At this moment the door opened and amid general silence Beatrice came
forward. Mrs. Birks rose quickly and met her. Mrs. Baxendale understood
at a glance what had brought her niece here. Agitation had grown
insupportable. It was not in Beatrice's character to lie still whilst
others decided matters in which she had supreme interest. The more
difficult her position the stronger she found herself to support it. The
culmination of the drama could not be acted with her behind the scenes.

Mrs. Birks, with a whispered word or two, led her to a seat. Beatrice
looked at her aunt, then at Mr. Athel. The proud beauty of her face was
never more impressive. She smiled as if some pleasant trifle were under
discussion.

'I heard your voice as I came in,' she said to Mrs. Birks, bending
towards her gracefully. 'Were you on my side?'

'I'm afraid not, dear, just then,' was the reply, given in a
corresponding tone of affectionateness.

'You will tell me what you were saying?'

Mr. Athel looked as uncomfortable as even an English gentleman can in
such a situation. Mrs. Baxendale seemed to be finding amusement in
observing him. The lady appealed to plucked for a moment at her sleeve.

'May I make a guess?' Beatrice pursued. 'It had something to do with the
private circumstances of the lady Mr. Wilfrid Athel has married?'

'Yes, Beatrice, it had.'

'Then let me help you over that obstacle, dear Mrs. Birks. I h