“Oh, it is easily found!” said Madeline, picking it up after a moment’s search. As she handed it to its owner, who had now advanced to the full light, their eyes met. Madeline read in those uneasy, slyly scanning orbs that their owner had her suspicions, that this smiling widow had been listening behind the _portière_. Should she tax her or not? Mrs. Leach was an adept at reading faces. She saw that Madeline distrusted her smooth lies, that Madeline was secretly terrified, that Madeline was eagerly searching her mind as to what she could possibly have heard; that it was a critical moment. Accordingly she made a bold move. “I know what you think, dear,” she said, coming up to the fire and warming one foot--“you think I have been unintentionally eavesdropping.” She had been eagerly listening, with every nerve strained, for ten whole minutes; but, alas! the _portière_ was very thick, the sounds were muffled, and she had, unfortunately, caught no names. She was certain that she had been in every sense on the threshold of dear Madeline’s secret; but, alas! she had not got beyond that; had only caught a word here and there. The word “Hush!” something about “shop girl,” and “a widower;” something about “a staircase,” and a “compliment;” something about “a knife and fork,” and, lastly, two whole sentences, “How you have kept the secret for so long amazes me!” and “Have you any message for him?” Whoever this _him_ was, he was Miss West’s lover, the man whose influence enabled her to turn a deaf ear to every other suitor. Presumably he was not presentable. If Madeline would but marry him, or elope with him, the course would be open to her, she would easily step into her place. The main thing was to lull Madeline’s suspicions, to give her plenty of rope--in other words, opportunities for meetings--to pretend to see nothing, yet to allow nothing to escape her vigilance. This man--his name was Jessop--was in Madeline’s secret, the secret she had kept so amazingly! If she played her cards properly, she, too, would soon share it! “I declare I did not hear a single word. I am a little deaf since I had the influenza; so whatever you were talking about is perfectly safe as far as _I_ am concerned.” Madeline made no reply, but came and stood before the fire, and her pretty, level brows were knit. She was endeavouring to recall her recent conversation, and as well as she could recollect, she had said _nothing_ that incriminated her. She breathed more freely. The _portière was_ thick--it was wadded; but, all the same, she did not believe her fair companion. Her mouth said smooth things; but her eyes had told tales. Her suspicions were aroused; but she, too, could play a part. “Of course; no lady ever lends herself to eavesdropping, I know,” she said quietly. “Mr. Jessop and I were merely quarrelling; we often quarrel. He has a knack of rubbing people up the wrong way.”