"I was just passing along to the dining-room," he explained slowly, "when I heard voices and your last question. I entered at once and was not eavesdropping, as you are pleased to say." "There is no need to excuse yourself," said Mrs. Walker tartly, "for----" Hale crossed his legs and leaned back. "In my own house I think not." "For I don't believe a word you say," she finished harshly. "Naturally you would not," rejoined Mr. Hale smoothly; "you were always a hard and suspicious woman." Mrs. Walker moved her hands restlessly, and her eyes gleamed fiercer than ever. "You know better than that," she muttered. "Take your mind back thirty years." "Willingly," said Hale, with great promptness. "Do you wish us to speak of the past in Lesbia's presence?" This time he scored, for Mrs. Walker winced. "There is no need for the child to hear old stories," she remarked, with suppressed passion. "Let us discuss what I have come to see you about." "The cross?" "Oh," she flashed scornfully, "I thought you were not eavesdropping?" "I admitted that I heard your last question," said Hale, with a shrug, "but you never would listen." "I am listening now. Say what you have to say." "I have said all that I intend to say, Mrs. Walker. The amethyst cross did not belong to Lesbia's mother." The girl uttered another exclamation; she was lost in astonishment. "But, father," she remonstrated, "Bridget told me on her death-bed----" "What she told you was what I instructed her to say," interrupted Hale imperiously. "But your mother--my wife--never possessed such an ornament." Lesbia looked at him doubtfully. Of late, she had suspected that her father was not above telling a falsehood to serve his own private ends, and in the face of what she knew, it appeared as though he was telling one now--why, she could not conjecture. While she was trying to puzzle out the reason, Mrs. Walker rose and swept across to the window of the drawing-room which looked out into the road. "I don't see him yet," she muttered to herself, and consulted a bracelet-watch attached to her left wrist. "Are you expecting anyone?" asked Hale politely. "Mr. Jabez, my family lawyer," she replied curtly, and returned to her seat. Hale raised his eyebrows and looked more gentlemanly than ever; also a trifle dangerous. "You asked him to my house?" "Yes, because I want to hear all about the cross. Oh, I know well that you do not wish to see Mr. Jabez, Walter, but----" "You call me Walter," said Hale, and suddenly flushed. "A slip of the tongue," retorted Mrs. Walker, also growing red. "The time is long past when I could call you so. You are Mr. Hale to me." "Then why not call me so?" demanded the man coolly. "I will do so in future," said Mrs. Walker, and bit her lip in silent rage at having given him an opportunity of scoring. "But I know that Mr. Jabez is too well acquainted with the seamy side of your life for you to care about meeting him."