hing to offer in exchange. He
would not give them to me. He surely would not give them to you. Shall I
tell you what is in his mind? Listen, then! He is rich now; he means
to make more money there. Then he will return, calling himself Mr.
Wingrave--an American--with imaginary letters of introduction to us. He
has ambitions--I don't know what they are, but they seem to entail his
holding some sort of a place in society. We are to be his sponsors."

"Is it practicable?" he asked.

"Quite," she answered. "He is absolutely unrecognizable now. He has
changed cruelly. Can't you imagine the horror of it? He will be always
in evidence; always with those letters in the background. He means to
make life a sort of torture chamber for us!"

"Better defy him at once, and get over," Barrington said. "After all,
don't you think that the harm he could do is a little imaginary?"

She brushed the suggestion aside with a little shiver.

"Shall I tell you what he would do, Lumley?" she said, leaning towards
him. "He would have my letters, and a copy of my evidence, printed in an
elegant little volume and distributed amongst my friends. It would come
one day like a bomb, and nothing that you or I could do would alter
it in the least. Your career and my social position would be ruined.
Success brings enemies, you know, Lumley, and I have rather more than my
share."

"Then we are helpless," he said.

"Unless we can get the letters--or unless he should never return from
America," she answered.

Barrington moved uneasily in his seat. He knew very well that some
scheme was already forming in his wife's brain.

"If there is anything that I can do," he said in a low tone, "don't be
afraid to tell me."

"There is one chance," she answered, "a sort of forlorn hope, but you
might try it. He has a secretary, a young man named Aynesworth. If he
were on our side--"

"Don't you think," Barrington interrupted, "that you would have more
chance with him than I?"

She laughed softly.

"You foolish man," she said, touching his fingers lightly. "I believe
you think that I am irresistible!"

"I have seen a good many lions tamed," he reminded her.

"Nonsense! Anyhow, there is one here who seems quite insensible. I have
talked already with Mr. Aynesworth. He would not listen to me!"

"Ah!"

"Nevertheless," she continued softy, "of one thing I am very sure. Every
man is like every woman; he is vulnerable if you can discover the right
spot an