Meanwhile the happy pair--and they truly were extremely happy--heard nothing of the chatter, and were indifferent to either praise or blame. They were all in all to one another, and lived in a kind of Paradise, on the south coast of Devonshire. On one of his sketching tours Lambert had discovered a picturesque old-world village, tucked away in a fold of the moorlands, and hither he brought his wife for the golden hours of the honeymoon. They lived at the small inn and were attended to by a gigantic landlady, who made them very comfortable. Mrs. "Anak," as Noel called her, took the young couple for poor but artistic people, since Agnes had dropped her title, as unsuited to her now humble position. "And in the Colonies," she explained to her husband, during a moorland ramble, "it would be absurd for me to be called 'my lady.' Mrs. Noel Lambert is good enough for me." "Quite so, dear, if we ever do go to the Colonies." "We must, Noel, as we have so little to live on." "Oh, one thousand a year isn't so bad," he answered good-humoredly. "It may seem poverty to you, who have been used to millions, my darling; but all my life I have been hard up, and I am thankful for twenty pounds a week." "You speak as though I had been wealthy all my life, Noel. But remember that I was as hard up as you before I married Hubert, poor soul." "Then, dear, you must appreciate the fact that we can never starve. Besides I hope to make a name as a painter." "In the Colonies?" "Why not? Art is to be found there as in England. Change of scene does not destroy any talent one may possess. But I am not so sure, darling, if it is wise to leave England--at least until we learn who murdered Pine." "Oh, my dear, do let us leave that vexed question alone. The truth will never become known." "It must become known, Agnes," said Lambert firmly. "Remember that Silver and Chaldea practically accuse us of murdering your husband." "They know it is a lie, and won't proceed further," said Agnes hopefully. "Oh, yes, they will, and Miss Greeby also." "Clara! Why, she is on our side." "Indeed she is not. Your guess that she was still in love with me turns out to be quite correct. I received a letter from her this morning, which was forwarded from Kensington. She reproaches me with marrying you after the trouble she took in getting the forged letter back from Silver." "But you told me that she said she would help you as a friend." "She did so, in order--to use an expressive phrase--to pull the wool over my eyes. But she intended--and she puts her intention plainly in her letter--to help me in order to secure my gratitude, and then she counted upon my making her my wife." Agnes flushed. "I might have guessed that she would act in that way. When you told me that she was helping I had a suspicion what she was aiming at. What else does she say?"