"What a strange thing!" cried Overshute, flushed with quick excitement. "How reckless we were at the inquest! We had made up our minds without evidence, on the mere faith of coincidence. And you--you have never taken the trouble to look into this point until now--and now perhaps quite by accident! We were told that you had recognised the stockings; and it turns out that you never even saw them. It is strange and almost wicked negligence." "I have told you my motives. I can say no more," exclaimed Mrs. Fermitage, with her fine fresh colour heightened by shame or anger. "Of course, I felt sure--who could fail to do so?--that the stockings found with my name on them must be the pair I had lent my niece. It seemed most absurd that I should have to see them. It was more than my nerves could bear; and the Coroner was not so unmanly as to force me. Pray, did you go and see everything, sir?" "Mrs. Fermitage, I am the very last person who has any right to reproach you. I failed in my duty, far more than you in yours. In a man, of course, it was a thousand times worse. There is no excuse for me. I yielded to a poor unmanly weakness. I wished to keep my memory of the poor dear, as I had seen her last. I should have considered that the poor frail body is not our true identity----" "Quite so, of course. And therefore, what was the use of your going to see it? No, no, you behaved very well, Russel Overshute; and so did I, if it comes to that. Nobody can be quite blameless, of course; and we are told in the Bible not to hope for it. If we all do our duty according to our inner lights, and so on, the Apostle can say no great harm of us, in his rudest moment to the ladies." "Let us settle that we both have done our best," said Russel very sadly; knowing how far from the truth it was, but seeing the folly of arguing. "And now will you tell me, what made you send for those silk ingredients of costume so suddenly; and then show them to me?"