s face expressed
blank astonishment.

"By Jove! Nevill engaged to Madge Foster?" he cried.

"That's the girl, and he's going to marry her!"

Jimmie turned away to hide his feelings. This was a most astounding
piece of news, but under the circumstances he was satisfied that it
must be true. So Nevill knew Miss Foster! That in itself was a strange
revelation! And suddenly a vague suspicion came into his mind--a
chilling doubt--as he recalled Nevill's demeanor, and certain little
actions of his, on the night when Jack Vernon's French wife confronted
him under the trees of Richmond Terrace. Had a jealous rival planned
that Diane should be there?--that she should come to life again to blast
the happiness of the man who believed her dead? He tried to put away the
suspicion, but it would not be stifled; it grew stronger.

"I say, old man, what's gone wrong?" asked Bertie. "You're acting
queerly. I hope _you've_ not been hit in that quarter."

Jimmie faced around and laughed.

"No fear, Bertie," he said. "I'm not a marrying man. I wouldn't know
Miss Foster from your precious Flora, for I've never seen either of
them." He suddenly remembered the photograph Jack had shown him, and his
cheeks flushed. "It gave me a bit of a start to hear that Nevill was
going to be married," he added, hastily. "I thought he was too fond of
a bachelor's existence to tie himself to a wife."

"It's funny what a woman can do with a chap," Bertie sagely observed.

"_You_ ought to know," Jimmie replied, pointedly, as he pulled on his
coat. "Come along! It's past my lunch hour, and I'm hungry."

On their way to a noted restaurant in the vicinity Jimmy engaged in deep
reflection.

"I'll do it," he vowed, mentally. "I'll keep an eye on Mr. Victor
Nevill, and get to the bottom of this thing. I remember that I took a
dislike to him in Paris from the first. I hate a traitor, and if Nevill
has been playing the part of a false friend, I'll block his little game.
He seemed rather too anxious to take Diane away that night. And he'll
bear watching for another reason--I'm almost certain that it was his
voice I heard in the Jew's back room. Benjamin and Company, like charity,
may cover a multitude of sins. Nevill was going a rapid pace when he was
abroad, and he couldn't well have kept it up all these years on his
legacy."

* * * * *

It was eleven o'clock at night, and the theatres were pouring their
audiences from pit