"I showed my love in a hundred ways," she said, with a playful laugh. "Oh, Lord Prelice, how very little you know of women." "I know more than is good for me," he murmured, smiling. "What?" "That is, Lord Prelice does," he protested, hedging; "but George is an innocent boy, who knows nothing." "Who is George?" "I am." And he kissed her again, victoriously. Mona laughed happily. "I am afraid that George is not so innocent as he makes himself out to be." "Teach him to be good, my darling." "A hard task you set me--George," she lingered lovingly over the name; "and oh, what you must think of me, who take so much for granted." "I think that you are an angel," he cried fervently. "Dear, I loved you from the moment I first saw you in that cruel Court." "And I loved you," she whispered. "I thought that it was merely friendship, until we met again, and then--then, I knew!" She gave a delighted little crow of laughter, which stirred the young man's heart to its depths. Impulsively he dropped on his knees, and kissed her hands alternately, scarcely able to speak. "I am not worthy of you," he muttered. "Dear." She stooped, and raised him to her breast. "Let me find out your imperfections by myself." "I have many," he said humbly. "And I love you for them. I marry a man in the world of men, and not an archangel; in the same way as you take a faulty woman, and not a spirit of light. But we are spirits, although clothed in coats of skin," she ended gently, "and when the hour strikes we shall know each other." "Do we not know each other now?" "No. That is, Mona Chent knows George Prelice." The young man jumped gaily to his feet. "Enough for the day is the delight therefore," he cried. "I am quite content to know Mona Chent until she becomes Mona Prelice. When will you marry me?" "So like a man," laughed the girl; "you wish to settle an important future in five minutes. We must wait." "Wait? Oh no, no! Why should we?" "Because," Mona laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, "your wife must be like Cæsar's, above suspicion." "You wish me, then, to go on looking into the case?" "I do, unless you accept the warning of Dr. Horace." Prelice threw his panama over the hedge "I accept no warning, since you make me strong to dare it. I shall go on with the case--to-morrow." "Why to-morrow?" "Oh, Mona, let me enjoy Paradise for twenty-four hours." "No. You must act, and at once, lest we lose our Paradise altogether. I don't understand what Dr. Horace means, but in spite of his hints I wish you to look into matters in order to find out who murdered poor Uncle Oliver, and in order to clear my name. You must go up to London to-day and begin your search. It is a sacrifice I ask of you, no doubt, but then love--true love--means sacrifice." "Very good," said Prelice sedately; "I shall go up by the midday train and interview Madame Marie Eppingrave." "Why her particularly?"