in the letter. The two youngest are
twins."

For the fraction of a second something flickered across the face of
Robert Vyner and was gone.

"Trimblett's second marriage was rather fortunate for them," he said, in
a matter-of-fact voice.

He restrained his feelings until his father had gone, and then, with
a gasp of relief, put his head on the table and gave way to them.
Convulsive tremours assailed him, and hilarious sobs escaped at
intervals from his tortured frame. Ejaculations of "Joan!" and "Poor
girl!" showed that he was not entirely bereft of proper feeling.

His head was still between his arms upon the table and his body still
shaking, when the door opened and Bassett entered the room and stood
gazing at him in a state of mild alarm. He stood for a minute diagnosing
the case, and then, putting down a handful of papers, crossed softly
to the mantel-piece and filled a tumbler with water. He came back and
touched the junior partner respectfully on the elbow.

"Will you try and drink some of this, sir?" he said, soothingly.

The startled Robert threw up his arm. There was a crash of glass, and
Bassett, with his legs apart and the water streaming down his face,
stood regarding him with owlish consternation. His idea that the junior
partner was suffering from a species of fit was confirmed by the latter
suddenly snatching his hat from its peg and darting wildly from the
room.

[Illustration: Snatching his hat from its peg 258]

CHAPTER XXI

MRS. WILLETT sat in her small and over-furnished living-room in a state
of open-eyed amazement. Only five minutes before she had left the room
to look for a pair of shoes whose easiness was their sole reason
for survival, and as a last hope had looked under Cecilia's bed, and
discovered the parcels. Three parcels all done up in brown paper and
ready for the post, addressed in Cecilia's handwriting to:--

Mrs. P. Truefitt,

Findlater's Private Hotel,

Finsbury Circus, London.

She smoothed her cap-strings down with trembling hands and tried to
think. The autumn evening was closing in, but she made no attempt to
obtain a light. Her mind was becoming active, and the shadows aided
thought. At ten o'clock her daughter, returning from Tranquil Vale, was
surprised to find her still sitting in the dark.

"Why, haven't you had any supper?" she inquired, lighting the gas.

"I didn't want any," said her mother, blinking at die sudden light.

Miss Willett turned and