But the girl gave a wordless cry at sight of the change in my face. "Oh, how dear of you to care so much! I didn't mean that you were _ugly_, Peter. I just meant you are so big and--and so like the baby that they probably have on the talcum-powder boxes in Brobdingnag--" "Because I happen to be really Robert Townsend--the notorious Robert Etheridge Townsend," I continued, with a smile. "I am sorry you were deceived by the cigarette-case. I remember now; I borrowed it from Peter. What I meant to confess was that I have known all along you were Margaret Hugonin." "But I'm not," the girl said, in bewilderment. "Why--Why I _told_ you I was Avis Beechinor." "This handkerchief?" I queried, and took it from my pocket. I had been absurd enough to carry it next to my heart. "Oh--!" And now the tension broke, and her voice leapt to high, shrill, half-hysterical speaking. "I am Avis Beechinor. I am a poor relation, a penniless cousin, a dependent, a hanger-on, do you understand? And you--Ah, how--how funny! Why, Margaret _always_ gives me her cast-off finery, the scraps, the remnants, the clothes she is tired of, the misfit things,--so that she won't be ashamed of me, so that I may be fairly presentable. She gave me eight of those handkerchiefs. I meant to pick the monograms out with a needle, you understand, because I haven't any money to buy such handkerchiefs for myself. I remember now,--she gave them to me on that day--that first day, and I missed one of them a little later on. Ah, how--how funny!" she cried, again; "ah, how very, very funny! No, Mr. Townsend, I am not an heiress,--I'm a pauper, a poor relation. No, you have failed again, just as you did with Mrs. Barry-Smith and with Miss Jemmett, Mr. Townsend. I--I wish you better luck the next time." I must have raised one hand as though in warding off a physical blow. "Don't!" I said. And all the woman in her leapt to defend me. "Ah no, ah no!" she pleaded, and her hands fell caressingly upon my shoulder; and she raised a penitent, tear-stained face toward mine; "ah no, forgive me! I didn't mean that altogether. It is different with a man. Of course, you must marry sensibly,--of course you must, Mr. Townsend. It is I who am to blame--why, of _course_ it's only I who am to blame. I have encouraged you, I know--" "You haven't! you haven't" I barked. "But, yes,--for I came back that second day because I thought you were the rich Mr. Blagden. I was so tired of being poor, so tired of being dependent, that it simply seemed to me I could not stand it for a moment longer. Ah, I tell you, I was tired, tired, tired! I was tired and sick and worn out with it all!" I did not interrupt her. I was nobly moved; but even then at the back of my mind some being that was not I was taking notes as to this girl, so young and desirable, and now so like a plaintive child who has been punished and does not understand exactly why.