"Oh, as to that, she is my rival no longer," said Maraquito, with a
gesture of disdain, "your nephew is not worthy of me. I surrender him
from this moment."

"That is very wise of you. I expect you will go abroad and marry a
millionaire."

"I might. But I have plenty of money of my own."

"The way in which you made it is not creditable," said Caranby.

"Bah!" she sneered. "I did not come here to hear you talk morality,
Lord Caranby. You were no saint in your young days. I have heard all
about you."

"From whom?"

"From my Aunt Emilia."

"I scarcely think that. You were but a child when she died."

"She did not die," said Maraquito coldly. "I have come to tell you
that she lived as Miss Loach at Rose Cottage."

Caranby started to his feet. "What is this you tell me?"

"The truth. Emilia is dead now, but she lived alone for many a long
day. I knew that Selina Loach was my aunt, and," Maraquito looked at
him with piercing eyes, "Mrs. Octagon knew also."

By this time Caranby had recovered from his emotion. "There is nothing
bad I don't expect to hear of Isabella Octagon," he said, "so this then
was why she visited you?"

"Yes. I ordered her to come by threatening to reveal what she knew to
the police. I could have done so by an anonymous letter. She came and
then I forced her to promise to stop the marriage. I may as well add
that I wrote insisting on the marriage being stopped as soon as Emilia
died."

"Ah! And I thought along with Cuthbert that it was hatred of me that
made Mrs. Octagon--"

"Oh, she hates you sure enough. But are you not astonished by my news?"

"Very much astonished," responded Caranby thoughtfully, "how came it
that Selina died and Isabella lived?"

"The three met in the unfinished house," explained Maraquito. "I had
the story from Emilia myself. There was a quarrel. All three were in
love with you. Selina was standing on a plank at a considerable height
from the ground. In a rage Emilia pushed her off. Isabella held her
tongue as she hated Selina."

"But the substitution?"

"Well. In the fall Selina's face was much mutilated. I believe,"
added Maraquito, in a coldblooded manner, "that Emilia made it
worse"--here Caranby shuddered and Maraquito laughed--"oh, my aunt was
not a woman to stick at trifles. She insisted on changing dresses with
the dead. It was the workmen's dinner-hour and no one was about. She
forced Isabella to assist her by threatening to