"Oh!" It was the scream of a tigress. "Oh, mine--mine--mine!" Mrs. Haveril threw herself literally over the clothes. She clutched and dragged them, and with quick fingers huddled them into the towel again and tied the corners. "Mine!" she repeated, standing up again, her hand on the bundle. "Mine!" Her voice was like a roar of rage, sunk down deep and low and rough--not like her customary voice, which was gentle and sweet. "Mine!" She held the bundle to her heart. Molly rose at this point and laid her hand on her cousin's shoulder. "Keep quiet, dear--keep quiet! Let us leave this house." She turned to Lady Woodroffe. "It is a house of lies." Lady Woodroffe looked at her as if she were not present, and had not spoken. "The delusion is stronger than I thought," she said, affecting surprise and wonder. Alice recovered and stood up, still holding the things to her heart. "Oh," she cried, panting and gasping, "you are a bad woman! a false woman!" "For Heaven's sake," said Molly, "keep quiet! You have said enough. Think of yourself." "I had better ring the bell, I think." Lady Woodroffe laid her finger on the knob, but refrained to press it. "Oh! What can I say?" "Say nothing, dear," said Molly. "Will you give me back those things?" Lady Woodroffe moved as if she would take them. "No? Then keep them. After all I have--my son--mine--my son. That is the main thing." "I made these things--every one--I made them. See, Molly--here is the very paper I wrote. I pinned it to his little frock." She kissed the frock. "'His name is Humphrey.' I wrote it. His father said there was always a Humphrey in the family. I wrote that paper--now!" Lady Woodroffe smiled sadly. "Poor creature! But perhaps you had better go at once." "Where is my son?" "I have done my best to relieve you of a most remarkable delusion. You reward me by robbing me of my child's things. I cannot fight you for them, and I do not like to make my servants take them by force. Keep them." She rang the bell. "They are my things." Lady Woodroffe continued to follow her movements with eyes of compassion. "It is indeed wonderful!" she murmured. "All this great fortune! And this most miserable delusion to spoil it!" Alice moved towards the door. She was trembling. She leaned upon Molly. She clung to the bundle. She turned. "You have given my son back to me. I want no further proof." Molly bore her down the stairs, as she retired, with some loss of dignity, her face tearful, her cheek flushed, but clutching the bundle. "Now she knows the whole," said Lady Woodroffe. "And I defy her to move a step. She may look at the boy from afar off." She rang her hand-bell, and called her secretary, and resumed her struggle against sin. CHAPTER XIX. A CABINET COUNCIL. "I don't like it," said Richard. "The thing is proved down to the ground. But I don't like it."