"You judge me by yourself," said Donna Sandoval coldly. "I asked you here to reconcile you, if possible, with my aunt, but she refuses to be reconciled, as she believes that you let Mr. Grent make love to you." "It is not true; It is not true. Remember," said Lydia with a sneer, "it was not I who called at Mr. Grent's chambers." "I know it; but it was you who sent my maid Julia to see Mr. Grent in Mortality-lane." "Ha!" cried Torry, much surprised. "Are you sure of that?" "I am. I can prove it." Lydia was pale and uneasy, and avoided the eye of the detective. Nevertheless, as the situation was awkward, and even dangerous, she assumed a defiant air to mask the fear she felt. "How can you prove it?" she demanded. "By means of that fawn-coloured mantle trimmed with black lace." "Your mantle?" said Torry, recollecting a previous conversation with Maria. "No, not mine; it belongs to Miss Hargone." "But you said--" "I know what I said," interrupted Maria, reddening slightly--"that the mantle was mine. I lied in order to shield Lydia. Yes," she continued, addressing Miss Hargone directly, "I was your friend, and as such defended you against the aspersions of my aunt, but now, as I find that you trapped me by that ring into confessing that I visited my uncle in London; when I see that, to save yourself, you are willing to sacrifice me, I renounce your friendship, and I order you to leave this house. Never dare to show your face here again." Lydia, who had turned red and pale by turns, now rose to her feet, with a malignant expression on her face. "I shall go," said she slowly "and only too willingly; but first--" "First," interrupted Torry, "you must explain how Julia Brawn became possessed of your mantle." "I gave it to her, in the same way that Donna Maria presented her with the hat. If," she continued insolently, "articles of cast-off clothing are to be taken as evidence of my connection with the crime, Donna Maria is as guilty as I am." "Not so," corrected the Spanish girl. "I gave the hat to Julia a long time ago--in fact, a week before she left my service, and she left that quite seven days before the murder. But as to your mantle, when I was up in London, on the day when the crime was committed--Saturday----" "Pardon, the murder, took place on Sunday morning after midnight," said Torry precisely. "Well on the day before the murder I saw Miss Hargone in Piccadilly. She wore that mantle." "I did not!" contradicted Lydia very pale. "You did. Mr. Vass was with me, and can prove it. I believe you gave that mantle to Julia, so that she might meet Mr. Grent and delude him into the belief that she was you." "Ah!" cried Torry, recollecting the double ticket. "Then you, Miss, were the woman with whom Mr. Grent intended to travel to Genoa?" "No! no! no!" cried Lydia in her turn. "I utterly deny it. Why should I have met Mr. Grent? I swear I did not meet him." "No," sneered Maria, "you sent Julia in your mantle."