u must take us as we are."

"Thank you, Mrs. Pegall, I will."

"Good-bye, dears," cried Lydia again, and with a final peck all round
she skipped out and into the hansom, followed by her escort.

"Damn!" said Mrs. Vrain, when the cab drove away in the direction of
Bayswater. "Oh, don't look so shocked, Mr. Denzil. I assure you I am not
in the habit of swearing, but the extreme respectability of the Pegalls
always makes me wish to relieve my feelings by going to the other
extreme. What do you think of them?"

"They seem very good people, and genuine."

"And very genteel and dull," retorted Lydia. "Like Washington, they
can't tell a lie for a red cent; so you can believe I was there with
poppa on Christmas Eve, only he went away, and I stayed all night."

"Yes, I believe it, Mrs. Vrain."

"Then I couldn't have been in Jersey Street or Geneva Square, sticking
Mark with the stiletto?"

"No! I believe you to be innocent," said Lucian gravely. "In fact, I
really don't think it is necessary to find out about this cloak at
Baxter & Co.'s. I am assured you did not buy it."

"I guess I didn't, Mr. Denzil; but you want to know who did, and so do
I. Well, you need not open your eyes. I'd like to know who killed Mark,
also; and you say that cloak will show it?"

"I didn't say that; but the cloak may identify the woman I wrongfully
took for you. She may have to do with the matter."

Lydia shook her pretty head. "Not she. Mark was as respectable as the
Pegall gang; there's no woman mixed up in this matter."

"But I saw the shadow of a woman on the blind of No. 13!"

"You don't say! In Mark's sitting-room? Well, I should smile to know he
was human, after all. He was always so precious stiff!"

Something in Mrs. Vrain's light talk of her dead husband jarred on the
feelings of Lucian, and in some displeasure he held his peace. In no
wise abashed, Lydia feigned to take no notice of this tacit reproof,
but chatted on about all and everything in the most frivolous manner.
Not until they had entered the shop of Baxter & Co. did she resume
attention to business.

"Here," she said to the smiling shopwalker, "I want to know by whom this
cloak was sold, and to what person."

The man examined the cloak, and noted a private mark on it, which
evidently afforded him some information not obtainable by the general
public, for he guided Lucian and his companion to a counter behind which
stood a brisk woman with sharp eyes. In her turn