"An infamous woman!" was answered passionately. "That is false!" said Irene, her eyes flashing as she spoke. "I don't care who says so, I pronounce the words false!" Hartley stood still and gazed at his wife for some moments without speaking; then he sat down at the table from which he had arisen and, shading his face with his hands, remained motionless for a long time. He seemed like a man utterly confounded. "Did you ever hear of Jane Beaufort?" he asked at length, looking up at his wife. "Oh yes; everybody has heard of her." "Would you visit Jane Beaufort?" "Yes, if I believed her innocent of what the world charges against her." "You are aware, then, that Mrs. Lloyd and Jane Beaufort are the same person?" "No, sir, I am not aware of any such thing." "It is true." "I do not believe it. Mrs. Lloyd I have known intimately for over two years, and can verify her character." "I am sorry for you, then, for a viler character it would be difficult to find outside the haunts of infamy," said Emerson. Contempt and anger were suddenly blended in his manner. "I cannot hear one to whom I am warmly attached thus assailed. You must not speak in that style of my friends, Hartley Emerson!" "Your friends!" There was a look of intense scorn on his face. "Precious friends, if she represent them, truly! Major Willard is another, mayhap?" The face of Irene turned deadly pale at the mention of this name. "Ha!" Emerson bent eagerly toward his wife. "And is that true, also?" "What? Speak out, sir!" Irene caught her breath, and grasped the rein of self-control which had dropped, a moment, from her hands. "It is said that Major Willard bears you company, at times, in your rides home from evening calls upon your precious friends." "And you believe the story?" "I didn't believe it," said Hartley, but in a tone that showed doubt. "But have changed your mind?" "If you say it is not true--that Major Willard never entered your carriage--I will take your word in opposition to the whole world's adverse testimony." But Irene could not answer. Major Willard, as the reader knows, had ridden with her at night, and alone. But once, and only once. A few times since then she had encountered, but never deigned to recognize, him. In her pure heart the man was held in utter detestation. Now was the time for a full explanation; but pride was aroused--strong, stubborn pride. She knew herself to stand triple mailed in innocency--to be free from weakness or taint; and the thought that a mean, base suspicion had entered the mind of her husband aroused her indignation and put a seal upon her lips as to all explanatory utterances. "Then I am to believe the worst?" said Hartley, seeing that his wife did not answer. "The worst, and of you!"