rl of Rochester's present representative was finding it now, with
little enough pleasure, however, as he paced the room preparatory to
ringing the bell. He was approaching the electric button for this
purpose, when the faint and far away murmuring of an automobile, as if
admitted by a suddenly opened hall door, checked his hand. Here was
Rochester at last. He waited listening.

He had not long to wait.

The door of the room suddenly opened, and the woman of the breakfast
table disclosed herself. She was dressed for going out, wearing a hat
that seemed a yard in diameter, and a feather boa, from which her
hen-like face and neck rose to the crowning triumph of the hat.

"I am going to Mother," said she. "I am not coming back."

"Um-um," said Jones.

She paused. Then she came right in and closed the door behind her.

Standing with her back close to the door she spoke to Jones.

"If you cannot see your own conduct as others see it, who can make you?
I am not referring to the disgrace of last night, though heaven knows
that was bad enough, I am talking of _everything_, of your poor wife who
loves you still, of the estate you have ruined by your lunatic conduct,
of the company you keep, of the insults you have heaped on people--and
now you add drink to the rest. That's new." She paused.

"That's new. But I warn you, your brain won't stand _that_. You know the
taint in the family as well as I do, it has shewn itself in your
actions. Well, go on drinking and you will end in Bedlam instead of the
workhouse. They call you 'Mad Rochester'; you know that." She choked. "I
have blushed to be known as your sister--I have tried to keep my place
here and save you. It's ended." She turned to the door.

Jones had been making up his mind. He would tell the whole affair. This
Rochester was a thoroughly bad lot evidently; well, he would turn the
tables on him now.

"Look here," said he. "I am not the man you think I am."

"Tosh!" cried the woman.

She opened the door, passed out, and shut it with a snap.

"Well, I'm d----d," said Jones, for the second time in connection with
Rochester.

The clock on the mantelpiece pointed to a quarter to eleven; the faint
sound of the car had ceased. The lady of the feather boa had evidently
taken her departure, and the house had resumed its cloistral silence.

He waited a moment to make sure, then he went into the hall where a huge
flunkey--a new one, more curious than the others, was loun