“An impostor!” said Ingram, slowly. “I have heard a good many people called impostors. Did it ever occur to you that the blame of the imposture might possibly lie with the person imposed on? I have heard of people falling into the delusion that a certain modest and simple-minded man was a great politician or a great wit, although he had never claimed to be anything of the kind; and then when they found out that in truth he was just what he had pretended to be, they called out against him as an impostor. I have heard, too, of young gentlemen accusing women of imposture whose only crime was that they did not possess qualities which they had never pretended to possess, but which the young gentlemen fancied they ought to possess. Mrs. Lorraine may be an impostor to you. I think she is a thoroughly good woman, and I know she is a very delightful companion. And if you want to know how she means to find Sheila out, I can tell you. She thinks that Sheila would probably go to a hotel, but that afterward she would try to find lodgings with some of the people whom she had got to know through her giving them assistance. Mrs. Lorraine would like to ask your servants about the women who used to come for this help. Then, she thinks, Sheila would probably get some one of these humble friends to call for her letters, for she would like to hear from her father, and she would not care to tell him that she had left your house. There is a great deal of supposition in all this, but Mrs. Lorraine is a shrewd woman, and I would trust to her instinct in such matters a long way. She is quite sure that Sheila would be too proud to tell her father, and very much averse, also, to inflicting so severe a blow on him.” “But surely,” Lavender said hastily, “if Sheila wishes to conceal this affair for a time, she must believe it to be only temporary? She cannot propose to make the separation final?” “That I don’t know anything about. I would advise you to go and see Mrs. Lorraine.” “I won’t go and see Mrs. Lorraine.” “Now, this is unreasonable, Lavender, you begin to fancy that Sheila had some sort of dislike to Mrs. Lorraine, founded on ignorance, and straightway you think it is your duty to go and hate the woman. Whatever you may think of her, she is willing to do you a service.” “Will you go, Ingram, and take her to those servants?” “Certainly I will, if you commission me to do so,” said Ingram readily. “I suppose they all know?” “They do.” “And every one else?” “I should think few of your friends would remain in ignorance of it.” “Ah, well,” said Lavender, “if only I could get Sheila to overlook what is past this once, I should not trouble my dear friends and acquaintances for their sympathy and condolence. By the time I saw them again I fancy they would have forgotten our names.”