this
head, I asked next if she had friends to go to in England. "I have one
friend," she answered, "who is a host in herself--Lady Janet Roy." You
may imagine my surprise when I heard this. I found it quite useless to
make any further inquiries as to how she came to know your aunt, whether
your aunt expected her, and so on. My questions evidently offended her;
they were received in sulky silence. Under these circumstances,
well knowing that I can trust implicitly to your humane sympathy for
misfortune, I have decided (after careful reflection) to insure the poor
creature's safety when she arrives in London by giving her a letter
to you. You will hear what she says, and you will be better able to
discover than I am whether she really has any claim on Lady Janet Roy.
One last word of information, which it may be necessary to add, and I
shall close this inordinately long letter. At my first interview with
her I abstained, as I have already told you, from irritating her by any
inquiries on the subject of her name. On this second occasion, however,
I decided on putting the question.'"

As he read those last words, Julian became aware of a sudden movement on
the part of his aunt. Lady Janet had risen softly from her chair and had
passed behind him with the purpose of reading the consul's letter for
herself over her nephew's shoulder. Julian detected the action just in
time to frustrate Lady Janet's intention by placing his hand over the
last two lines of the letter.

"What do you do that for?" inquired his aunt, sharply.

"You are welcome, Lady Janet, to read the close of the letter for
yourself," Julian replied. "But before you do so I am anxious to prepare
you for a very great surprise. Compose yourself and let me read on
slowly, with your eye on me, until I uncover the last two words which
close my friend's letter."

He read the end of the letter, as he had proposed, in these terms:

"'I looked the woman straight in the face, and I said to her, "You have
denied that the name marked on the clothes which you wore when you came
here was your name. If you are not Mercy Merrick, who are you?" She
answered, instantly, "My name is ------"'"

Julian removed his hand from the page. Lady Janet looked at the next two
words, and started back with a loud cry of astonishment, which brought
Horace instantly to his feet.

"Tell me, one of you!" he cried. "What name did she give?"

Julian told him.

"GRACE ROSEBERRY."

CHA