e play was so far advanced. On the other hand,
she was not disposed to soften matters for a man she disliked so
heartily as Harold Caffyn.

'Mabel, dearest, tell me what it is all about,' she said. 'If he has
insulted you, he shall answer to me for it!'

'He insulted my husband,' said Mabel. 'I _will_ speak, Harold, I am
not afraid, though I know you have every reason to wish your words
forgotten. He said----'

Here Caffyn interrupted her: he had made up his mind the only thing he
could do with his secret now was to use it to spike the enemy's guns.
Mabel was rash enough to insist on an explanation: she should have it.

'One moment,' he said. 'If you still insist on it, I will repeat what
I said presently. I was trying to prepare Mrs. Ashburn for a very
painful disclosure,' he explained to Mrs. Featherstone--'a disclosure
which, considering my position in the family, I felt it would be my
duty to make before long. I could not possibly foresee that she would
take it like this. If you think a little, Mrs. Ashburn, I am sure you
will see that this is not the time or place for a very delicate and
unpleasant business.'

'He pretends that Mark is an impostor--that he knows some secret of
his!' Mabel broke in vehemently. 'He did not speak of it as he tries
to make you believe ... he threatened me!'

'Dear Mr. Ashburn, whom we all know so well, an impostor--with a
secret! You said that to Mabel?' cried Mrs. Featherstone. 'Why, you
must be mad to talk in that dreadful way--quite mad!'

'My dear Mrs. Featherstone, I assure you I'm perfectly sane,' he
replied. 'The real truth is that the world has been grossly deceived
all this time--no one more so than yourself; but I do beg you not to
force me to speak here, where we might be interrupted at any moment,
and besides, in ordinary consideration to Mrs. Ashburn----'

'You did not consider me very much just now,' she broke in. 'I have
told you that I am not afraid to hear--you cannot get out of it in
that way!'

Mabel was well enough aware that Mark was not flawless, but the idea
that he could be capable of a dishonourable action was grotesque and
monstrous to her, and the only way she could find to punish the man
who could conceive such a charge was to force him to declare it
openly.

Mrs. Featherstone's curiosity and alarm had been strongly roused. She
had taken up this young novelist, her name was publicly connected with
his--if there was anything wrong about him, ough