Mrs. Rover darted a keen glance at him, and rose to alter the position of her hat in front of the mirror over the fireplace. Prelice knew quite well that she was watching him in the mirror, and carefully smoothed all expression out of his good-humoured face. "Ned!" repeated Mrs. Rover, patting her back hair; "oh yes, Ned, of course. Do you think they will hang him?" she demanded, wheeling round, rather white, and breathing hard. "Good heavens, no. What put that into your head?" "He isn't allowed to see me. The arrest----" "Ned hasn't been arrested. The fact that he was seen insensible by heaps of people proves his innocence. Bruge is simply detaining him as a necessary witness, although I admit that Bruge is taking a somewhat high hand in the matter. Don't bother your head about Ned, Constance. He'll soon be free to marry that girl." "Mona Chent!" Mrs. Rover clenched her hands, and breathed still harder, while Prelice anxiously watched the effect of his deliberate introduction of the name. "Oh yes." She went off into a meaningless trill of laughter. "She's free, isn't she? Lucky girl, for I quite believe that she killed her uncle." "Why do you believe that?" demanded Prelice. "Everyone says so." "Everyone does _not_ say so. The majority of people think that the verdict is a just one. I do myself." "Do you know her?" "No. What has that to do with it?" "You won't like her when you do know her," said Mrs. Rover spitefully. "She's a horrid girl; I never liked her." "That's a pity; you won't be able to visit Ned's wife." "She isn't his wife yet," breathed Mrs. Rover, trying to keep her temper in check; "perhaps she never will be." "Oh," Prelice spoke with calculated daring and cruelty, "do you then think that Mr. Rover will die?" "You coward--you----" She broke off. "What do you mean by that?" "I would rather you explained, Constance." "I have nothing to explain. Did you come here to insult me?" "Of course," replied Prelice, rising; "and now that I have done so, I may as well take my leave." She seized him by the lapels of his coat before he could reach the door. "Don't go, don't go," she panted; "I do so want a friend. I'll tell you all; you shall know everything." "If it is against your husband, I sha'n't listen." "You shall! Sit down, and hear what I have to say." Prelice was a strong young man, but for the moment her feminine strength prevailed, and he found himself forced into his former seat. "I wouldn't say what I'm going to say to everyone," panted Mrs. Rover, who was very strongly moved, "but, even though we have been apart for so many years, I still regard you as my best friend. You and I were boy and girl together, Dorry--you remember----" "Ned also," interposed Prelice pointedly. "Yes! Yes. Of course. I always loved Ned." "Constance, what are you saying?"