Two days later, as Aubrey was leaving her sitting-room, where he had spent the greater part of the afternoon, after bringing her some books from Mudie’s, he met the servant coming up the stairs, followed by a tall, fair young man. Annie’s voice had just called out, “I shall expect you then!” and Aubrey had scarcely closed the door behind him, when the servant reached the top stair. He stood on one side to let them pass, but the fair young man sent the servant down-stairs by a few words spoken in a low voice, and stood face to face with Aubrey just outside Miss Langton’s door. “These are Miss Langton’s apartments, I believe?” said the stranger. “Yes,” answered Aubrey, deciding, as he looked at the angry face and impatient movements of the man in front of him, that this was some bumpkin admirer of the clever young actress, who looked upon him as a rival. “And you are one of Miss Langton’s friends, I suppose?” “I have the honor of being one of her oldest friends,” said Aubrey, coolly. A deep flush spread over the face of the other man, who was evidently keeping himself in check by a strong effort of self-control. “May I ask what your name is?” he asked, curtly. “By what right do you ask such a question which cannot concern you?” “That is my affair; and you need not make such a mystery about it, because I know who you are. Your name is Cooke--Aubrey Cooke!” “Well, what then?” “What then? Why, my name is Harold Braithwaite!” But this announcement produced none of the effect he evidently expected. The pale, ugly young man still returned his look quite steadily, without expressing any sort of emotion. “I dare say it is,” said he, simply--“why not?” “Look here,” said the stranger, dropping his voice till it became a growl of passion. “I don’t want a scene here. You had better go.” But Aubrey stood his ground very calmly. “I am no more anxious for a scene than you are, I assure you. But, as you are a complete stranger to me, and can produce no authority for dismissing me, I must decline to move until I have given you a little piece of advice. Don’t venture to dismiss a lady’s friends without her authority----” “I don’t use her authority; I use my own.” “And you think that will be enough for me?” “I think it ought to be.” “Do you know who the lady is you are speaking about so confidently?” “Yes. You know her as Miss Langton, the actress.” “And you?” “As Annie Braithwaite--my wife!” Aubrey stood the shock well, but not too well for the other man to see that his announcement was a terrible surprise. This conversation had been carried on in low tones; but, as Harry raised his voice on his last words, Annie, in the sitting-room, had recognized it; and she opened the door and faced the two men, white and trembling. “Harry!” said she, in a low voice. “Is it true, then, that this man is your--husband?” asked Aubrey. “Yes,” answered she, hanging her head, and without looking at him.