At that instant, without warning, the door opened, and Muriel, bright and happy, burst into the room, bearing an armful of flowers. Next second, on recognising my visitor, her countenance changed, and she bowed stiffly to him, without offering her hand. Quick to notice this, I at once demanded an explanation, for the mystery had now driven me to desperation. "There is some secret in your previous acquaintance with Muriel," I said, addressing Yelverton boldly. "Tell me what it is." "Our acquaintance!" he faltered, while she drew back open-mouthed in alarm. The pair exchanged glances, and I saw that between them was some understanding. "What makes you suggest that?" he asked, with a forced laugh. "You were acquainted before I introduced you the other day!" I cried, fiercely. "You can't deny that!" "I have not denied it," he responded calmly. "It is quite true that I knew Miss Moore before our formal introduction." "Then why did you not admit it?" I demanded, a feeling of jealousy rising within me. "Simply because I had no desire to excite any suspicion in your mind, Clifton. That's all." "Rubbish!" I ejaculated. "There's some mystery behind all this. Why may I not know?" The Vicar of St Peter's glanced inquiringly at Muriel, but finding no look of permission in her countenance, preserved a silence, which in a moment grew irksome. Suddenly, however, Muriel, who stood near me, pale and excited, turned, and facing me, said-- "There appears to be a misunderstanding between you. It is quite true that I am acquainted with Mr Yelverton, and there is absolutely no necessity to deny the fact. We have known each other for a long time-- ever since I was at Madame Gabrielle's. He was curate at St Michael's, Rathbone Place, where I attended, and we were very good friends until-- until--" and she did not finish the sentence. "Until what?" "Well, until an event occurred which transformed our friendship." "What event?" Again the pair exchanged glances. She was apparently trying to obtain permission from him to expose to me the whole truth. At that moment I felt assured that this woman I had so fondly loved was playing me false, and, after all, this popular preacher was her real lover. Certain circumstances appeared to point to it, for her confusion was apparent; she knew not what to admit, nor what to deny. He shrugged his shoulders in dumb motion, as though he were careless, but this action apparently gave her confidence, and she turned to me again, saying-- "Any explanation you demand, Mr Yelverton will no doubt give to you." "No, no," Jack cried, addressing her. "It's quite impossible. You know full well that I'm utterly in ignorance of the truth, and that you alone can explain, if you will." She bit her lips, and endeavoured to recover her self-possession. Her illness had weakened her, and rendered her curiously nervous, so that the least emotion visibly affected her.