close study of that
girl. I confess I didn't like her at first, and I will tell you why,
though I know it will shock Bill."

"I've always liked Miss Brabazon," he said stoutly, "why didn't you like
her, Bubbles?"

"Because when she arrived here I saw that she was in love with Lionel
Varick."

"Don't talk nonsense," said her aunt reprovingly. "You know I don't like
that sort of joking."

And as for Bill, he turned and walked towards the door. "I've got some
letters to write," he said crossly.

"Don't go away, Bill. It isn't a joke, Blanche--and I'm going really to
shock _you_ now--unless, of course, you're only pretending to be
shocked?"

"What d'you mean?" said Blanche.

"I think Helen fell in love with Lionel Varick before his wife died."

Bill said sharply: "I won't have you say such disgusting things,
Bubbles!" And he did indeed look disgusted.

"What a queer mind you've got," said Bubbles reprovingly. "I mean, of
course, in quite a proper way; that is, without the poor girl knowing
anything about it. But I thing _he_ knew it right enough."

Blanche remained silent. Bubbles' words were making her feel curiously
uneasy. They threw a light on certain things which had puzzled her.

"Lionel Varick marked her down long ago," went on Bubbles slowly. "On
the evening that she arrived I saw that he had quite made up his mind to
marry her. But as the days went on I began to hope that he wouldn't
succeed." She uttered these last words very, very seriously.

Her aunt looked at her, surprised at the feeling she threw into her
voice. As for Donnington, he was staring at her dumbly and, yes,
angrily. At last he said: "And why shouldn't Varick marry her, if they
both like one another?"

"You wouldn't understand if I were to tell you. You're too stupid and
too good to understand."

Donnington felt very much put out. He did not mind being called stupid,
but what on earth did Bubbles mean by saying he was too good?

"I'm sure Lionel's dead wife has been haunting Helen," went on Bubbles
rapidly, "quite, quite sure of it. And I'm glad she has! I should be
sorry for any nice girl--for any woman, even a horrid woman--to marry
Lionel Varick. There! I've said my say, and now I shall for ever hold my
peace."

They both stared at her, astonished by the passion and energy with which
she uttered the curious words.

Bill looked down at the girl, and, though he felt hurt and angry with
her, his heart suddenly softened. Bubb