"Hilda, for God's sake don't be so spiteful--if you have any decent womanhood in you don't crush it. Miriam Arkel is no thief. You may have found this will in her box, as you say. But she did not steal it. It was taken from Barton's table on Christmas night by--by Julia Darrow!" "Julia Darrow? Impossible! Who told you that tale?" "The person who saw her take it." "I don't believe it--what motive had she?--none; besides, if that is so, how came it in the saintly Miriam's keeping--such _very secure_ keeping too--at least she thought so." The Major listened to her no longer. He became intent upon the contents of the will, and motioned to his wife to sit down. She continued her verbal fusillade none the less scathingly for lack of reply. At last she seemed to be approaching finality. "You may talk as you like," she said (perhaps because he was not talking at all), "nothing will convince me that the woman is innocent. She stole that will out of sheer spite at me--to prevent my marrying Gerald." "Oh, indeed!" This had roused the Major. "Would not the fact of your having elected to marry me have been a little inconvenient?" "Not in the least--I should never have elected to marry you in those circumstances." "Oh!" He looked at her in amazement. He was learning about women at a rate which threatened speedy disaster to his appreciation of them. He began firmly to hope that his education might become a trifle less rapid if less complete. "You can look, and look, and look," she continued, "I don't care; you may as well know the truth, though goodness knows you might have guessed it long ago--I detest you!" "Why--may I ask?" "Why?--for lots of reasons. Chiefly I suppose because I love Gerald." "Then in Heaven's name why didn't you marry him?" "Because this wretched creature by her thievish trickery ruined him. I couldn't marry a man who had not the means of keeping me, could I?" "That depends--on the man, and on yourself. In any case you and Gerald Arkel--you won't mind the frankness being mutual, will you?--no matter how situated, would in my opinion have made an easy and expeditious descent into--well, shall we say oblivion?--that is, of course, unless you had chosen to achieve notoriety of a wholly undesirable order. You, Gerald Arkel, and ample means!--nothing could have saved you. So perhaps, even as it is, you are better off. What think you, Hilda?" "I don't know what to think--I don't understand you. I don't understand this universal outcry against Gerald, that simply because he is possessed of a few pounds he must go to the dogs altogether."