“There is no doubt about it _now_,” she urged; “none whatever. You must brace up your courage, and prepare to act as a girl of spirit. No doubt you have a terribly hard task before you, and you have been cruelly deceived; but for the honour of your sex--not to speak of your own good name--be firm. He will declare the whole thing a lie from first to last, and will try to soothe you down with fond words and caresses, so as to gain time to act; for doubtless this certificate will give him a very unpleasant surprise. He will spare no money, you may rest assured, to silence the other person--Fanny Cole, in short. I daresay he would bribe her with half his income, so as to keep you as his wife; but do not listen to him. Be firm; in fact it will be best for you not to see him, but to leave the house before he arrives. You and I can live together as before. At first we will go to some quiet spot until this dreadful affair has blown over, as I suppose you will not wish to take any legal steps against him?” “Oh, Miss Fane!” said Alice--who had not heard a quarter of what Miss Fane had been saying--suddenly sitting up in bed and pushing back her hair behind her ears, “is it not a bad dream? Have I been a little off my head? It _can’t_ be true. It _is_ a dream!” she said, administering a severe pinch to her round white arm, from which she had pulled back the lace-ruffled sleeve. But as she watched the vivid red mark slowly dying away, she fell back on her pillow with a gesture of despair. “No dream--no dream,” she said half to herself; nevertheless, Miss Fane heard it. “I am sorry to say it is no dream, but a very sad reality. If you will take my advice, Alice”--and here Miss Fane paused--“Yes?” “You will leave this to-day, and not await your hus--I mean,” correcting herself, “Sir Reginald’s return.” “Oh, I can’t, I won’t. I must see him once more!” cried Alice excitedly. “He is so clever, so clear-headed, he is _sure_ to be able to unravel this horrible mystery.” “Humph!” said Miss Fane, with a scornful sniff, “it will take a cleverer man than I take him to be to do _that_. A marriage certificate is not to be explained away, or what would be the good of one?” “But someone else may have forged his name,” persisted Alice; “may have been married in his name two years ago.” “They could hardly do that, as the chaplain must have known him by sight. And look at the chaplain’s own signature, recognised and sworn to by his solicitors.” “A forgery perhaps.”