"But, may I ask," said Mr. Paulton, "how it is that the will becomes inoperative? How is it that you cannot avail yourself of your husband's bequests?" "My reasons for not taking my husband's money must, for the present--I hope for ever--remain with myself. Mr. Blake has told me certain things, and I have found out others myself. I am now without money--I do not mean," she said, flushing slightly, "for the present moment, for a month or two--but I am without any money on which I can rely for my support. I shall have to begin life again--or, rather, begin it for the first time. I shall have to work for my living, just as any other widow who is left alone without provision. This is very plain speaking, but the position is simple." "But, my dear Mrs. Davenport, you must not in this way give yourself up to despair," said Mr. Paulton, as he rose and stood beside her. "Despair!" she cried, looking up at him with a quick glance of angry surprise. "Despair! You do not think me so poor a coward as to despair. How can one who never knew hope know despair? I am in no trouble about the future. I shall take to a line of life in which there is room and to spare for such as I." "Do not do anything hastily, I have a good deal of influence left." Mrs. Paulton, who saw that Mrs. Davenport was excited, over-wrought, rose and moved towards the door. The others stood up, excepting Mrs. Davenport, who, as she was excited and looking up into Mr. Paulton's face, did not hear the stir or see the move. "I am most sincerely obliged to you, Mr. Paulton, but I greatly fear that, much as I know you would wish it, you could not aid me in my business scheme." "May I ask what the business is?" "The stage." "The stage, Mrs. Davenport! You astound me." "I have lived alone and secluded all my life. For the future I shall, if I can, live among thousands of people, whom I will _compel_ to sympathise with my mimic trials, since I never had any one to sympathise with my real ones. I shall flee from an obscurity greater than a cloister's to the blaze and full publicity of the footlights. You think me mad?" "No; ill-advised. Who suggested you should do this?" She glanced around, and saw that the ladies were waiting for her. "I beg your pardon," she said to them, as she rose and walked towards the door, which Alfred held open. She turned back as she went out, and answered Mr. Paulton's question with the two words: "Mr. Blake." Alfred closed the door. The three men looked in amazement at one another. "There's something devilish in her or Blake," said the old man. "Or both," said Jerry O'Brien. By a tremendous effort, Alfred Paulton sat down and kept still. He did not say anything aloud, but to himself he moaned: "If I lose her, my reason will go again--this time for ever!" CHAPTER XXXIV. A TELEGRAM FROM THE MAIL.