“You see, as I was picking up the catalogues,” continued Jeannie, “I could not help concluding that Miss Clifford was surprised that I was surprised because of something Colonel Raymond had said. So when we had finished I asked her what it was. And she told me.” “Well?” said Arthur. “Oh, Arthur, how dull you are!” said Jeannie. “He had said or hinted that I knew all about it--in fact, that I was engaged to Mr. Collingwood. He was kind enough to add that it was to be kept private for the present.” There was silence for a moment. At last Miss Fortescue spoke. “It was an ill day for the Aveshams,” she said, “when Colonel Raymond’s wife’s sister’s husband’s sister married your mother’s brother’s cousin.” “So that is what that infernal man meant,” said Arthur. “Yesterday evening, in the smoking-room of the club, I heard him say we were all very much excited about it. Then he stopped, and said he had nearly let it out.” “Well, then, there is some hope yet,” said Jeannie. “Arthur, I want you to go there this afternoon, and tell him he is under a delusion. Mrs. Raymond was with him, so Miss Clifford said, when he announced it.” “And may I tell him exactly what I think about him?” asked Arthur. “Tell him what I think,” said Miss Fortescue; “I feel more strongly than you.” “Oh, no,” said Jeannie. “What is the use of quarrelling with people? Just say he is mistaken. Oh, you might ask who told him. Of course he made it up.” “Yes, that would be awkward,” said Arthur, appreciatively. “But read me Mrs. Collingwood’s letter.” Jeannie took it from her pocket, and read: “THE CLOSE, WROXTON. “DEAR MISS AVESHAM: I can not express to you how shocked and horrified I am at what my son has done. I hurried home directly after I saw that terrible picture in order to write to you and assure you how entirely ignorant I was of the subject of the work which I knew Jack was going to send to the exhibition, and how entirely ignorant, I may add, I have been of him. I passed you and Miss Fortescue, I know, in the gallery, but I could not speak--I was too indignant. I am quite upset, and can neither think nor work. “With much sympathy, “Believe me, “Yours truly, “MARGARET COLLINGWOOD. “P.S.--I have written to my son expressing my views.” “I should like to see her letter to her son,” said Miss Fortescue, grimly. “An awful woman. Why, you would think that he had committed an assault with violence on Jeannie, or had been garroting her.” Arthur took a telegram out of his pocket. “He says he will be here before lunch,” he said, “as I want to play golf with him in the afternoon. I hope he won’t get the letter before he starts. Also I should like to see him open it.”