nty of hair,
and was clean shaven. Now--as Ferruci told me, for I haven't seen
him--he is bald, and wears a skull-cap of black velvet, and a white
beard. After Ercole told me about Jersey Street I went there to ask that
fat woman about Mark; she said he had gone away two days after
Christmas, and described him as an old man with a skull-cap and a white
beard."

"Oh!" cried Lucian, for he recollected that Rhoda gave the same
description.

"Ah! you know I speak the truth!" said Lydia, rising, "but I've had
enough of all this. I've lost my money, and I don't suppose I'll go back
to Mark. I've been treated badly all round, and I don't know what poppa
will say. But I'm going out of London to meet him."

"You said you did not know where your father was!" cried Diana
scornfully.

"I don't tell you everything, Diana," retorted Lydia, looking very
wicked, "but, if you must know, poppa went over to Paris last week, and
I'm going over there to meet him. He'll raise Cain for the way I've been
treated."

"Well," said Lucian, as she prepared to take her leave, "I hope you'll
get away."

"Do you intend to stop me, Mr. Denzil?" flashed out Mrs. Vrain,
furiously.

"Not I; but I'll give you a hint--the railway stations will be watched
by the police."

"For me?" said Lydia, with a scared expression. "Oh, sakes! it's awful!
and I've done nothing. It's not my fault if I got the assurance money. I
really thought that Mark was dead. But I'll try and get away to poppa;
he'll put things right. Good-bye, Mr. Denzil, and Diana; you've done me
a heap of harm, but I don't bear malice," and Mrs. Vrain rushed out of
the room in a great hurry to escape the chance of arrest hinted at by
Lucian. She had a sharp eye to her own safety.

Diana waited until the cab which Lydia had kept waiting was driving
away, and then turned with an anxious expression on her face to look at
Lucian. "My dear," she said, taking his arm, "what do you think of
Lydia's accusation?"

"Against your father?" said Lucian. "Why, I don't believe it!"

"Nor do I; but it will be as well to set the trap she suggests; for if
my father does not fall into it--and as he is not Wrent, I don't believe
he will--the real man may keep the appointment with Mrs. Clear."

"Whosoever Wrent is, I don't think he'll come again to the Silent
House," replied the barrister, shaking his head. "It would be thrusting
his head into the lion's jaws. If he is in London he'll see the death
of