y the pride of
her love--the desire that Jack Meredith, though he would never love
her, should know once for all that such a man as Victor Durnovo could be
nothing but repugnant to her.

"If you mean," she said, "that you cannot tell Mr. Meredith because I am
here, you need not hesitate on that account."

Maurice laughed awkwardly, and muttered something about matters of
business. He was not good at this sort of thing. Besides, there was the
initial handicapping knowledge that Jocelyn was so much cleverer than
himself.

"Whether it is a matter of business or not," she cried with glittering
eyes, "I want you to tell Mr. Meredith now. He has a right to know.
Tell him upon what condition Mr. Durnovo proposed to admit you into the
Simiacine."

Maurice still hesitated, bewildered, at a loss--as men are when a
seemingly secure secret is suddenly discovered to the world. He would
still have tried to fend it off; but Jack Meredith, with his keener
perception, saw that Jocelyn was determined--that further delay would
only make the matter worse.

"If your sister wants it," he said, "you had better tell me. I am not
the sort of man to act rashly--on the impulse of the moment."

Still Maurice tried to find some means of evasion.

"Then," cried Jocelyn, with flaming cheeks, "_I_ will tell you. You were
to be admitted into the Simiacine scheme by Mr. Durnovo if you could
persuade or force me to marry him."

None of them had foreseen this. It had come about so strangely, and yet
so easily, in the midst of their first greeting.

"Yes," admitted Maurice, "that was it."

"And what answer did you give?" asked Jocelyn.

"Oh, I told him to go and hang himself--or words to that effect," was
the reply, delivered with a deprecating laugh.

"Was that your final answer?" pursued Jocelyn, inexorable. Her
persistence surprised Jack. Perhaps it surprised herself.

"Yes, I think so."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, he cut up rough and threatened to make things disagreeable; so
I think I said that it was no good his asking me to do anything in the
matter, as I didn't know your feelings."

"Well, you can tell him," cried Jocelyn hotly, "that never, under
any circumstances whatever, would I dream even of the possibility of
marrying him."

And the two men were alone.

Maurice Gordon gazed blankly at the closed door.

"How was I to know she'd take it like that?" he asked helplessly.

And for once the polished gentleman of the world fo