en at his house."

"Very good of him, I'm sure," remarked Ransford dryly. "They all like to
shift the blame from one to another! But," he added, looking searchingly
at her, "you don't know anything about--Braden's having come here?"

He saw at once that she did, and Mary saw a slight shade of anxiety come
over his face.

"Yes, I do!" she replied. "That morning. But--it was told to me, only
today, in strict confidence."

"In strict confidence!" he repeated. "May I know--by whom?"

"Dr. Bryce," she answered. "I met him this morning. And I think you
ought to know. Only--it was in confidence." She paused for a moment,
looking at him, and her face grew troubled. "I hate to suggest it,"
she continued, "but--will you come with me to see him, and I'll
ask him--things being as they are--to tell you what he told me. I
can't--without his permission."

Ransford shook his head and frowned.

"I dislike it!" he said. "It's--it's putting ourselves in his power,
as it were. But--I'm not going to be left in the dark. Put on your hat,
then."

Bryce, ever since his coming to Wrychester, had occupied rooms in an
old house in Friary Lane, at the back of the Close. He was comfortably
lodged. Downstairs he had a double sitting-room, extending from the
front to the back of the house; his front window looked out on one
garden, his back window on another. He had just finished lunch in the
front part of his room, and was looking out of his window, wondering
what to do with himself that afternoon, when he saw Ransford and Mary
Bewery approaching. He guessed the reason of their visit at once,
and went straight to the front door to meet them, and without a word
motioned them to follow him into his own quarters. It was characteristic
of him that he took the first word--before either of his visitors could
speak.

"I know why you've come," he said, as he closed the door and glanced at
Mary. "You either want my permission that you should tell Dr. Ransford
what I told you this morning, or, you want me to tell him myself. Am I
right?"

"I should be glad if you would tell him," replied Mary. "The rumour you
spoke of has reached him--he ought to know what you can tell. I have
respected your confidence, so far."

The two men looked at each other. And this time it was Ransford who
spoke first.

"It seems to me," he said, "that there is no great reason for privacy.
If rumours are flying about in Wrychester, there is an end of privacy.
Dick tell