"Thank God, Madge did not believe a word of it," said Morris, his face suddenly flushing, "and like a brick, and a true friend she wrote at once to me, as I said, in order to tell me all this. We talked over, too, who it could have been who had said these vile things to her father. There was only one person who could. She had ridden with her father till tea-time. Then came your partner. Sir Richard saw nobody else; nobody else called that afternoon; no post came in." Mr. Taynton had sprung up and was walking up and down the room in great agitation. "I can't believe that," he said. "There must be some other explanation. Godfrey Mills say those things about you! It is incredible. My dear boy, until it is proved, you really must not let yourself believe that to be possible. You can't believe such wickedness against a man, one, too, whom I have known and trusted for years, on no evidence. There is no direct evidence yet. Let us leave that alone for the moment. What are you going to do now?" "I came here to see him," said Morris. "But I am told he is away. So I thought it better to tell you." "Yes, quite right. And what else?" "I have written to Sir Richard, demanding, in common justice, that he should see me, should tell me what he has heard against me, and who told him. I don't think he will refuse. I don't see how he can refuse. I have asked him to see me to-morrow afternoon." Mr. Taynton mentally examined this in all its bearings. Apparently it satisfied him. "You have acted wisely and providently," he said. "But I want to beg you, until you have definite information, to forbear from thinking that my dear Mills could conceivably have been the originator of these scandalous tales, tales which I know from my knowledge of you are impossible to be true. From what I know of him, however, it is impossible he could have said such things. I cannot believe him capable of a mean or deceitful action, and that he should be guilty of such unfathomable iniquity is simply out of the question. You must assume him innocent till his guilt is proved." "But who else could it have been?" cried Morris, his voice rising again. "It could not have been he," said Taynton firmly. There was a long silence; then Morris rose. "There is one thing more," he said, "which is the most important of all. This foul scandal about me, of course, I know will be cleared up, and I shall be competent to deal with the offender. But--but Madge and I said other things to each other. I told her what I told you, that I loved her. And she loves me." The sternness, the trouble, the anxiety all melted from Mr. Taynton's face. "Ah, my dear fellow, my dear fellow," he said with outstretched hands. "Thank you for telling me. I am delighted, overjoyed, and indeed, as you say, that is far more important than anything else. My dear Morris, and is not your mother charmed?" Morris shook his head.