"You won't find that the name of Edermont is known in those parts," she said, without thinking. "Precisely," said Dora coolly. "Edermont is a false name. I have suspected that for some time. Thank you, Mrs. Tice, for admitting it. I have learnt so much from you. Mr. Joad will tell me the rest." "Mr. Joad may or may not," said Mrs. Tice doubtfully. "Do not go too much by what I am saying, Miss Carew. You have a skilful and crafty person to deal with." "Are you talking of yourself?" "By no means. I am neither skilful nor crafty. I allude to Mr. Joad." "You seem to be well acquainted with his character, Mrs. Tice. Did you know him at Christchurch?" "No, my dear. I never saw the man until I came here--to this house. But I have eyes in my head, and I can see that he is singularly deceitful." "Perhaps, but harmless." Mrs. Tice shook her head with pursed-up lips. "I disagree with you. The adder is harmless so long as it isn't trodden upon. Tread upon Mr. Joad, my dear young lady, and he will--bite." To emphasize the last word Mrs. Tice snapped off a piece of thread, and looked up at Dora with a sharp nod. Evidently Joad had failed to impress her favourably. "I have no doubt you are right," said Dora, after reflection. "He would be dangerous if he got the chance, but I don't see where his opportunity for mischief comes in." "Neither do I, Miss Carew; but he'll watch for one, you mark my words." Dora did not reply to this remark, as she was of the same opinion herself. She was thinking about Carver's remark touching a past romance of Edermont's, and of her own statement to Allen that Mrs. Tice might have been the woman who had to do with the same. It was now her desire to find out if there was any grain of truth in her supposition, but she did not know exactly how to put it to Mrs. Tice. At last she thought the best method to approach so delicate a subject was by a side issue. "Your husband is dead, isn't he, Mrs. Tice?" she asked with apparent carelessness. "Yes, Miss Carew," replied the housekeeper; "he died more than twenty-five years ago, and his body is buried in the graveyard of Christchurch Priory." "Were you much in love with him?" "We respected and liked one another," said Mrs. Tice judiciously: "but we were not madly in love." "Were you ever madly in love with anyone, Mrs. Tice?" "No, my dear young lady," was the laughing reply, "never! I am not a romantic person." Dora thought for a moment. "Was Mr. Edermont handsome when you knew him first?" "He was passable, Miss Carew--a little, womanish man. Even in his youth his hair was white--the effect of nerves, I believe. He was always nervous, poor soul!" "He had reason to be, evidently." "Yes," said Mrs. Tice sharply, "good reason. I never liked him, but I was sorry for him." Determined to know the exact truth, Dora put her question plainly: "Were you in love with him?" "What!" said Mrs. Tice, laughing, "with that rat of a man? No, my dear: I had better taste."