"Lady Arabella, sir, is a charming woman, and I should have deemed it a privilege to meet her--to talk to her--even--since I am in the confessional--to flirt a little with her. But if you mean to ask if my affections are in any way engaged, I can emphatically answer 'No!'--as indeed you will understand when presently I give you the reason. Apart from that, there are the unpleasant details we discussed the other day." "Could you--would you mind giving me the reason now? It will help us to understand what is before us, in the way of difficulty." "Certainly, sir. My reason, on which I can fully depend, is that I love another woman!" "That clinches it. May I offer my good wishes, and, I hope, my congratulations?" "I am proud of your good wishes, sir, and I thank you for them. But it is too soon for congratulations--the lady does not even know my hopes yet. Indeed, I hardly knew them myself, as definite, till this moment." "I take it then, Adam, that at the right time I may be allowed to know who the lady is?" Adam laughed a low, sweet laugh, such as ripples from a happy heart. "There need not be an hour's, a minute's delay. I shall be glad to share my secret with you, sir. The lady, sir, whom I am so happy as to love, and in whom my dreams of life-long happiness are centred, is Mimi Watford!" "Then, my dear Adam, I need not wait to offer congratulations. She is indeed a very charming young lady. I do not think I ever saw a girl who united in such perfection the qualities of strength of character and sweetness of disposition. With all my heart, I congratulate you. Then I may take it that my question as to your heart-wholeness is answered in the affirmative?" "Yes; and now, sir, may I ask in turn why the question?" "Certainly! I asked because it seems to me that we are coming to a point where my questions might be painful to you." "It is not merely that I love Mimi, but I have reason to look on Lady Arabella as her enemy," Adam continued. "Her enemy?" "Yes. A rank and unscrupulous enemy who is bent on her destruction." Sir Nathaniel went to the door, looked outside it and returned, locking it carefully behind him. CHAPTER XX--METABOLISM "Am I looking grave?" asked Sir Nathaniel inconsequently when he re-entered the room. "You certainly are, sir."