roubles?" she asked hurriedly.

"Because I know he's a dissipated young ass," returned Mallow roughly;
"and I daresay you know it also."

"Do you allude to his playing cards?" she asked quickly.

"Yes. He has no right to tell you these things. But I know he is in
debt to Hale--he hinted as much the other day. I would say nothing of
this to you, but that I know he counts on your paying his debts. I
tell you, Juliet, it is wrong for you to do so."

"How do you know I can?" she asked.

"I know nothing," said Cuthbert doggedly, "not even if you have
inherited the money of Miss Loach."

"I have inherited it. She left everything to me, save legacies to
Thomas her servant, and to Emily Pill, the cook. It is a large fortune.
The will was read on the day of the funeral. I have now six thousand a
year."

"So much as that? How did your aunt make such a lot of money?"

"Mr. Hale speculated a great deal on her account, and, he is very
lucky. At least so he told me. But the money is well invested and
there are no restrictions. I can easily pay the few debts Basil owes,
poor boy. You are too hard on him."

"Perhaps I am. But he is so foolish, and he doesn't like me. I believe
he puts you against me, Juliet."

The girl threw her arms round his neck. "Nothing in the world would
ever put me against you, Cuthbert," she whispered vehemently. "I love
you--I love you--with all my heart and soul, with every fibre of my
being do I love you. I don't care what mother says, I love you."

"Well, then," said Cuthbert, between kisses, "since you are now rich
and your own mistress--not that I care about the money--why not marry
me at once?"

Juliet drew back, and her eyes dilated with fear. "I dare not--I dare
not," she whispered. "You don't know what you ask."

"Yes I do. Juliet, what is all this mystery about? I could not
understand the meaning of your letter."

"Did you do what I asked?" she panted.

"It was too late. I had told Jennings the detective all I knew."

"You were not afraid?"

"Afraid!" echoed Cuthbert, opening his eyes. "What do you mean?"

She looked into his eyes. "No," she said to herself, "he is not
afraid."

Cuthbert lost his temper. "I don't understand all this," he declared,
"if you would only speak out. But I can guess why you wish me to stop
the proceedings--you fear for Basil!"

She stepped back a pace. "For Basil?"

"Yes. From what he hinted the other day I believe he was