And she loved Richard Dyson! On that point, after what she, Fanny, had been witness to, there could be no possible doubt; and yet all along Denia had made believe that Dyson's presence was utterly repugnant to her. But over and above their love for each other was there not some dark secret between the two--some bond the nature of which was known to themselves alone? "Your secret is my property. I hold your life in the hollow of my hand." Those had been Denia's words, and they had been meant as a warning to Dyson. What hidden meaning lay at the back of them? Could it, after all, be possible that Denia----? "No--no--even now I will not believe it!" cried Fanny when her thoughts had carried her thus far. CHAPTER XIX. AN UNAVOIDABLE NECESSITY. Little sleep had Fanny Sudlow that night. In the morning she arose weary and unrefreshed, but by that time she saw her duty clearly before her. How distasteful soever it might be to her to do so, it was evident that she must acquaint Mr. Melray with what she had seen and heard overnight in the garden. This was no commonplace instance of a pair of secret lovers, of two people meeting stealthily at midnight. With the knowledge strong upon her of what had happened under that roof one fatal September night and of all that had since occurred, no other course seemed open to her. It was a necessity from which she shrank with the most heartfelt repugnance, but she was powerless to help herself. Her first impulse had been to telegraph to Phil and ask him to meet her at Merehampton station. She would have given much, very much, to be able to confide her secret to him and so shift to his broad shoulders the responsibility of deciding what ought to be done next. But she called to mind the fact that Phil was on the Continent, having been sent there, in the interests of the _Pharos_, to work up a certain subject which was just then attracting a good deal of public attention, and that the date of his return was uncertain. It was very unfortunate, but in nowise could it be helped. She was almost glad, when she went downstairs, to find that Mr. Melray had left home for the day on business and would not be back till a late hour. A respite, however brief, was welcome. It was something of an ordeal for her to be compelled to meet Denia at meal times, and yet, neither by tone, nor look, nor manner, allow anything to escape her which would tend to arouse the suspicions of that sharp-witted young woman. Fortunately the day was a wet one. There was no possibility of going out, consequently no opportunity was afforded Denia for a private gossip with Miss Sudlow. The latter kept close to the school-room, and, except at table, the two saw nothing of each other. The dowager Mrs. Melray, being unaware of Richard Dyson's return, made no inquiry about him; and so the day wore itself uneventfully away. There was no slightest sign to give warning of the storm that was so soon to break.