o atone by good works. Now I have a very
humiliating further confession to make to you all. Recently there has
been--may I call it a recrudescence?--an uncontrollable recrudescence
of my former regrettable self. For a disastrous moment the Mr. Hyde
element in me, which I thought I had stifled and cast out, arose
and possessed me. In brief, I have been guilty of an error which the
police consider serious; in fact, the police are this moment searching
for me. So you see, I am in the same situation as Mr. De Peyster: I
prefer my whereabouts to remain unknown. Since we are in each other's
hands, and it is in our power each to betray the other, shall we not
all, as a _quid pro quo_, agree to preserve Mr. De Peyster's and my
presence in this house a secret? For my part, I promise."

"I'm willing," said Jack.

"And I," said Mary. "Anyhow, I never get a chance to tell, for I
haven't been out of this house once."

"And you, Judge Harvey? You will--ah--protect me?"

Judge Harvey bit the end of his mustache. "I don't like this
bargaining over a matter of justice. But--for Jack's sake, yes."

"Thank you, Judge Harvey," Mr. Pyecroft said in a soft, grateful
voice, and with a slight, dignified bow.

Mrs. De Peyster drew a deep breath. He certainly was a cool one.

"There's something that's just been occurring to me," spoke up Jack.
"It's along of that infernal reporter Mayfair who's snooping around
here. He's likely to get in here any time. If he were to find me here
alone, there'd be nothing for him to write about. It's finding me
here, married, that will give him one of his yellow stories, and
that will put mother next. Matilda, since you already have so large
a family visiting you, I suppose you wouldn't mind taking on one
more and saying that Mary here was something or other of yours--say a
niece?"

"Oh, that would be delicious" laughed Mary.

"Why, Mr. Jack,--I! I--" The flustered Matilda could get out no more.

"Mr. Simpson, couldn't you say she was your daughter?" queried Jack.

"I would be only too delighted to own her as such," said Mr. Pyecroft.
"But I am not married and I am obviously too young. However,"--moving
closer to Mrs. De Peyster,--"our sister Angelica is married, and I am
sure it will be a great pleasure to her to claim Mrs. De Peyster as
her daughter. Angelica, my dear, of course you'll do it?"

Mrs. De Peyster sat rigid, voiceless.

"What's the matter?" asked Mary, in deep concern.

"Our sister