t for me to explain more
fully here than this: The young lady of whom I am about to speak knows
that I am telling you these things. I am not speaking against her
will.'

And now his eyes dropped as he said faintly, 'Thank you.'

I next told him in as matter-of-fact a manner as possible how I
examined the bag, and how, when all other hope of a clue to the owner
failed, I read Miss Jenrys' letters; how, when the first letter failed
to give me the owner's address, I read the second in full.

'And now,' I said to him, 'before I go further, let me remind you once
more that I speak by permission, and add, on my own behalf, that, even
thus authorized, I would not utter what I am about to say if I did not
believe that by so doing I can set right a wrong, a worse wrong done
to you than that of attempting your life--a blow at your honour, in
fact.'

He started, and then, as if remembering his condition, said with
wonderful self-restraint, 'Go on, please.'

And I did go on. Before I paused again I had told him almost word for
word, as it was implanted upon my memory, the story June Jenrys had
written to her friend, the story of that ante-Lenten party--just the
fact, omitting her expressions of preference. I told the story as I
would have told it of a dear sister whose maidenly pride was precious
to me; told how she had gone, at his request, to speak with him in the
conservatory, and how, there, she had heard, herself unseen, those
flippant, unmanly words, so unlike him, yet from the lips of someone
addressed by his name.

For a long moment after I had ceased speaking he lay there so
moveless, with his hands tightly clenched and his eyes fixed upon
empty space, that I almost feared he had fainted; then he turned his
face toward me and spoke in stronger tones than I had supposed him
capable of using.

'That letter--did it name that man?'

'What man?' I had purposely omitted the name of the man who had come
so opportunely to lead Miss Jenrys away after she had heard the
heartless speech from behind the ferns in the conservatory, and while
I asked the question I knew to whom he referred.

'The man who came so opportunely after the--after I had gone.'

I hesitated. Here was a complication, perhaps, for I had hoped he
would not put this question yet, but I could not draw back now, or
what I had meant should result in good to two persons, at least, might
cause further misunderstanding and render the last state worse than
th