“Perhaps you know who is accountable for Miss Douglas’ misfortunes since she came abroad?” he returned, meaningly, and with a look that made Isabel’s heart quake, for she knew he had seen Brownie lately, and it was possible he, too, knew all the story of their abuse. But Mrs. Coolidge was, as usual, equal to the occasion. “Really, no. She told me she knew no one in this country,” she returned, with raised eyebrows, and in surprised tones. “I know something of Miss Douglas, and that she is undeserving a word of the censure which you have heaped upon her this evening; and I demand that you retract every word you have said—all of you!” he said, in tones which could not be mistaken. There was a sudden hush among the company, while all eyes were fixed upon the young man, towering so proudly in his haughty strength before them. Mrs. Coolidge felt by no means as easy as she appeared; but hers was a desperate case, and it would not do to relax in the least her vigilance. So she glowered disapprobation and surprise upon him, while Isabel tried to curl her trembling lips in scorn. “Really, Adrian,” soothingly said Lady Randal, who began to be afraid of a quarrel, “I am sorry to see you so excited over this unfortunate affair. I know you are very philanthropic, but I am afraid you are allowing yourself to become quixotic regarding this very singular young person.” His fine lips curled, and he turned and bowed slightly, as he replied: “If it is quixotic to defend a pure and lovely girl in her absence from such abuse as you have heaped upon her here to-night, then I plead guilty to the charge. I met Miss Douglas several months ago in the United States. I know that she is as well-born as most of you in this room, and few possess the cultivation and accomplishments which she is mistress of. At the time of which I speak she was believed to be the heiress of more than a million, and moved in circles equal to our own, but sudden misfortune reduced her to the necessity of becoming a governess.” “Why, Adrian, I am astonished! I did not suppose that you knew aught concerning Miss Douglas,” replied Lady Randal, beginning to regard the companion rather more leniently. “Nor I, that he was so interested in the poor but misguided girl,” added Mrs. Coolidge, with sarcastic commiseration. She had never forgiven Adrian’s preference for the beautiful governess that night at the opera, and could not now conceal her spite. He wheeled upon her in an instant. “I am deeply interested in her, madam. Miss Douglas is my betrothed wife; and I warn you to be very careful how you speak of her in the future. I could say much more, but”—with a glance from Isabel to Sir Charles—“existing circumstances compel me to be silent.” CHAPTER XXXI BROWNIE’S STRANGE VISITOR Had an earthquake shaken the house at that moment greater consternation could not have prevailed than at this announcement.