am saying you were at the Carlton,
but being at my brother's place in Cumberland, I couldn't get back
till----"

"Oh, I understand," Margot cut in. Then she laughed a sly little laugh.
"I think I understand too why you went to Cumberland. Now tell me.
Confession's good for the soul. Didn't your brother wire for you the
minute he saw that announcement in _The Morning Post_, day before
yesterday?"

"He did wire. Or rather the Duchess did, asking me to go at once to
Cumberland, on important business. I found your telegram, forwarded from
my flat, when I got to Northmorland Hall. If I'd known you were moving,
I wouldn't have gone till to-day."

"You mean, dear, you wouldn't have let me move? Now, do you think
there's any harm in a girl of my age being alone in a hotel? If you do,
it's dreadfully old-fashioned of you. I'm twenty-four."

During the progress of the case, it had been mentioned in court that the
claimant's daughter was twenty-nine (exactly Stephen Knight's age); but
Margot ignored this unfortunate slip, and hoped that Stephen and others
had forgotten.

"No actual harm. But in the circumstances, why be conspicuous? Weren't
you comfortable with Mrs. Middleton? She seemed a miraculously nice old
body for a lodging-house keeper, and fussed over you no end----"

"It was for your sake that I wanted to be in a good hotel, now our
engagement has been announced," explained Miss Lorenzi. "I didn't think
it suitable for the Honourable Stephen Knight's future wife to go on
living in stuffy lodgings. And as you've insisted on my accepting an
income of eighty pounds a month till we're married, I'm able to afford a
little luxury, dearest. I can tell you it's a pleasure, after all I've
suffered!--and I felt I owed you something in return for your
generosity. I wanted your _fiancee_ to do you credit in the eyes of the
world."

Stephen bit his lip. "I see," he said slowly.

Yet what he saw most clearly was a very different picture. Margot as she
had seemed the day he met her first, in the despised South Kensington
lodgings, whither he had been implored to come in haste, if he wished to
save a wretched, starving girl from following her father out of a cruel
world. Of course, he had seen her in court, and had reluctantly
encountered her photograph several times before he had given up looking
at illustrated papers for fear of what he might find in them. But
Margot's tragic beauty, as presented by photographers, or as seen