ere. But I could find her, perhaps.
I'd love to go to her. She was a very good girl. She's probably
married a good man and has brought up her children piously, and never
mentioned me. I'd only bring disgrace on her. She'd disown me if I
came home with this cloud of scandal about me."

"No one shall know of this scandal unless you tell."

She laughed harshly, with a patronizing superiority.

"Really, Mr. Verrinder, did you ever know a secret to be kept?"

"This one will be."

She laughed again at him, then at herself.

He rose wearily. "I think I shall have to be getting along. I haven't
had a bath or a shave to-day. I shall ask you to keep to your room and
deny yourself to all visitors. I won't ask you to promise not to
escape. If the guard around the house is not capable of detaining you,
you're welcome to your freedom, though I warn you that England is as
hard to get out of as to get into nowadays. Whatever you do, for your
own sake, at least, keep this whole matter secret and stick to the
story we agreed on. Good morning!"

He bowed himself out. No rattling of chains marked his closing of the
door, but if he had been a turnkey in Newgate he could not have left
Marie Louise feeling more a prisoner. Her room was her body's jail,
but her soul was in a dungeon, too.

As Verrinder went down the hall he scattered a covey of whispering
servants.

The nurse who had waited to seize the children when they came forth
had left them to dress themselves while she hastened to publish in the
servants' dining-room the appalling fact that she had caught sight of
a man in Miss Marie Louise's room. The other servants had many other
even more astounding things to tell--to wit: that after mysterious
excitements about the house, with strange men going and coming, and
the kitchen torn to pieces for mustard and warm milk and warm water
and strong coffee, and other things, Sir Joseph and Lady Webling were
no more, and the whole household staff was out of a job. Strange
police-like persons were in the house, going through all the papers in
Sir Joseph's room. The servants could hardly wait to get out with the
gossip.

And Mr. Verrinder had said that this secret would be kept!

CHAPTER VII

Somewhere along about this time, though there is no record of the
exact date--and it was in a shabby home in a humble town where dates
made little difference--a homely woman sniffed.

Her name was Mrs. Nuddle.

What Mrs. Nuddle was