"Can't we leave the name of that girl out of the conversation?" "I think not," said Craver, still coldly. "You forget that it is on behalf of her father that I have come. You threatened, both in London and on the cliffs the other day to do him harm." "Oh!" Lady Wyke's brows contracted in a frown, "so that girl told you of our conversation on the cliffs?" "Yes. About an hour or so ago. In fact, the moment I arrived as you might say, she told me everything." "Everything?" repeated the woman, with emphasis. Edwin nodded. "Even to the offer of one thousand a year." "She should have had more sense than to say that," snapped Lady Wyke. "Don't you think that we had better leave Miss Lemby's name out of this conversation?" said Craver, tartly. "I asked you to," she reminded him swiftly, "and you refused." Craver could not deny this, and looked uncomfortable. "I have not much time to wait, Lady Wyke," he remarked, looking at his watch with pointed rudeness. "I must ask you to come to the point." "Oh, there is plenty of time for that," she answered sweetly. "You must have some tea first." "Thank you. I am due back to tea at the Rectory." "I think not. We have much to say to one another." "About Mr. Lemby?" "No." Lady Wyke looked at him so pointedly that he blushed. "About yourself." "I wish you wouldn't," he exclaimed, just like an unformed schoolboy. "You wish I wouldn't what?" "Talk like that." "Talk like what?" "Oh, we are speaking in a circle. See here, Lady Wyke. You asked me here to say something about Mr. Lemby. I understand from your hints to Claudia that you accuse him of murdering your husband." "How crudely you put it." She raised her eyebrows. "I don't accuse him." "Then why I am here I don't know." "You will know soon, Mr. Craver. I accuse someone else." "Who is it?" The young man suddenly shivered, in spite of the warm atmosphere. "Who is he, you mean. Well; then, ask yourself who murdered my husband." "I don't know. How should I know?" "Because you murdered him. It was you who escaped on that bicycle, Mr. Craver, and it was you who stabbed Sir Hector in this very house." CHAPTER XV. Lady Wyke's sudden accusation of murder came like a bolt from the blue, and so stunned Craver that he had not a word to say. While he sat silent in the deep armchair, as white and cold and motionless as any corpse, she touched the bell-button and ordered the footman who appeared to bring in tea immediately, The footman arranged the tea-table near the fire, and Lady Wyke sat down to attend to her hospitable duties. "Sugar, Mr. Craver?" she asked, when the tea was poured out. If she could be composed so could he. "Thank you. Two lumps," he said, and bent forward to accept the cup. "You take it very well," said Lady Wyke, approvingly. "But then I know you have plenty of courage. All aviators must be courageous, and you are very successful I hear. I wonder if you would take me for a flight one day?"