Prelice pricked up his ears, remembering the unnecessary blush of the barrister at midday. "How did she treat Shepworth?" he asked. "How? Can you ask?" "Of course, seeing that, as a newly returned traveller, I know nothing." "Well then, she was almost engaged to him, and he was very much in love with her. She threw him over in a cold-blooded way, because Dolly Rover came along with a better-filled purse. He's a horrid little cad," added Lady Sophia candidly, "and his father was a chemist, or a draper--I forget which. All the same, he is too good for a jilt, who played blind hooky--don't raise your eyebrows, Prelice; it's vulgar, but expressive, and I shall use it--who played blind hooky with poor Mr. Shepworth." "But are you sure, aunt? Ned is engaged to Miss Chent." "Out of pique--out of pique," she assured him. "Mona is a nice girl, poor darling, even though she did murder her uncle, not that I believe she did. But Constance is the one love of Mr. Shepworth's life, and fifty Monas won't make up for the loss. Mona, if ever she does become Mrs. Shepworth, which I very much doubt, will only be a make-shift." "Oh!" Prelice was almost too indignant to speak. That so peerless a girl should be talked of as a "make-shift" seemed positively wicked. "You must be mistaken. Ned would not behave so badly." "Ask him then." "I shall do this very night." "Then you will go to that woman's?" "Yes. I accepted, as I always liked Constance. Besides, I have to see Ned, who lives in these same mansions----" "I know he does," burst out Lady Sophia; "quite indecent I call it." "Oh, hang it, aunt, a man must live somewhere." "Not next door to a woman who has jilted him." "He doesn't live next door, but on the floor below." "It would be more creditable if he lived in Timbuctoo. I believe that he loves her still, and she's quite capable of loving him back in spite of the marriage service, which I don't believe she listened to. As for her husband----" Lady Sophia was about to give her opinion of Mr. Dolly Rover, when the butler threw open the door, and announced dinner. At once she took her nephew's arm, and changed the conversation. "Tell me about the case," she chattered as they passed to the dining-room. "Have they hanged that poor girl?" "Who? Miss Chent? No, and I don't believe they will." "Ah!" Lady Sophia pulled off her gloves. "I always said that she was innocent." "Of course, if Agstone turns up, she may be convicted." "Agstone--oh yes; the man who declares that he saw her kill Sir Oliver." Prelice corrected her, while taking his soup. "He only saw her bending over the fire with a knife in her hand." "Burning the will after killing her uncle. What a horrid girl!" "Aunt Sophia, will you tell me plainly if you believe Miss Chent to be innocent or guilty?"