, as Agnes had written
him a letter announcing her marriage, and plainly stating her reasons
for giving up her late husband's fortune. She ironically advised him to
seek out the person to whom the money would pass, and to see if he could
not plunder that individual. Garvington, angry as he was, took the
advice seriously, and sought out Jarwin. But that astute individual
declined to satisfy his curiosity, guessing what use he would make of
the information. In due time, as the solicitor said, the name of the
lucky legatee would be made public, and with this assurance Garvington
was obliged to be content.

Meanwhile the happy pair--and they truly were extremely happy--heard
nothing of the chatter, and were indifferent to either praise or blame.
They were all in all to one another, and lived in a kind of Paradise, on
the south coast of Devonshire. On one of his sketching tours Lambert had
discovered a picturesque old-world village, tucked away in a fold of the
moorlands, and hither he brought his wife for the golden hours of the
honeymoon. They lived at the small inn and were attended to by a
gigantic landlady, who made them very comfortable. Mrs. "Anak," as Noel
called her, took the young couple for poor but artistic people, since
Agnes had dropped her title, as unsuited to her now humble position.

"And in the Colonies," she explained to her husband, during a moorland
ramble, "it would be absurd for me to be called 'my lady.' Mrs. Noel
Lambert is good enough for me."

"Quite so, dear, if we ever do go to the Colonies."

"We must, Noel, as we have so little to live on."

"Oh, one thousand a year isn't so bad," he answered good-humoredly. "It
may seem poverty to you, who have been used to millions, my darling; but
all my life I have been hard up, and I am thankful for twenty pounds a
week."

"You speak as though I had been wealthy all my life, Noel. But remember
that I was as hard up as you before I married Hubert, poor soul."

"Then, dear, you must appreciate the fact that we can never starve.
Besides I hope to make a name as a painter."

"In the Colonies?"

"Why not? Art is to be found there as in England. Change of scene does
not destroy any talent one may possess. But I am not so sure, darling,
if it is wise to leave England--at least until we learn who murdered
Pine."

"Oh, my dear, do let us leave that vexed question alone. The truth will
never become known."

"It must become known, Agnes," said Lambert