"My ring and the money. It was all a mistake. I don't want to be married to you any more." She regarded him with wide, frightened eyes. For the first time it was slowly dawning upon her that perhaps it was not such an easy thing to get unmarried as it had been to get married. "Please!" she added with faint appeal. The Beggar Man's face hardened. "My dear child," he said as patiently as he could, "it's not possible to stop being married like that, for no reason! Come, Faith, be reasonable! I make every allowance for you. I--I'm grieved at your mother's death, but...." The burning colour rushed suddenly to the girl's face. Her blank eyes woke into life and passion. "Grieved! When you helped to kill her!" she cried. She broke into wild laughter. "When you helped to kill her!" she said again helplessly. The Beggar Man caught her by both arms. "Faith! For God's sake," he said hoarsely. He thought that the shock of her mother's death had turned her brain. He tried to draw her to him, but she resisted him fiercely. "You killed my father and ruined his life," she went on, raving. "You killed my father, and now you've killed my mother. Oh, I wish I could die, too! I wish I had never seen you." And quite suddenly she seemed to collapse, and would have fallen but for Forrester's upholding arms. He laid her down on the couch by the window, and called to the kindly neighbour. The doctor had just arrived for Mrs. Ledley, and he came at once to Faith. Forrester stood by, pale and anxious. "The mother is dead, of course?" he asked once hopelessly, and the doctor looked up for a moment to answer. "She must have died instantly. It was heart failure!" His eyes searched the young man's agitated face. "May I ask who you are?" he inquired, faintly amazed. "Yes." The Beggar Man glanced down at Faith. "She is my wife," he said, briefly. "Your wife! That child!" The amazed words were out before the doctor could check them, and he hastened to apologize. "I beg your pardon, but she looks so young." "She is young," said the Beggar Man, flintily. "I am nearly twenty years older than she is." Faith was coming back to consciousness, and the doctor said hurriedly: "I think it will be better for you to go away for the present, if you will--I want her to be kept quite quiet." Nicholas went out into the narrow passage. The twins had returned and were squabbling over an enormous bag of sticky sweets. They hailed Nicholas with delight. "I thought I said you were to buy chocolates?" he said, with pretended severity. He sat down on the stairs and took the bag from them, dividing it into equal parts and sharing out its contents. "Ough! How sticky," he complained, with a little grimace. "Nice!" said the twins, unanimously. They were quite happy; nobody had told them, poor mites, of their irreparable loss.