"Who said that I did?" asked Prelice, growing scarlet. "Lady Sophia herself. I received a note from her this morning, and, considering my position, a very kind note. It seems that you wrote asking her to stand by me, and she has come to Folkstone to do so." "Loud cheers!" cried Prelice shamelessly. "I always thought that Aunt Sophia was a brick. She never believed you were guilty, you know," he went on confusedly; "said all manner of nice things about you to me whenever we met. Now she'll take you under her wing, and make things hot for any Society fool that dares to say a word against you." "Why do you do this for me, Lord Prelice?" asked Mona in rather a faltering tone, and averting her too-speaking face. "I am--that is--well--Ned's friend, you know." "Oh," Mona's voice became steady, and she turned to look at him squarely, "so you enlist your aunt on my behalf for Ned's sake." Was there ever such a perplexing girl! A moment ago and she seemed pleased at being championed by Lady Sophia, now her looks and her voice were cold. Prelice, in sheer desperation, blurted out the truth in a blundering manner. "A little bit for my own sake also." "I am glad of that." "Are you?" This time it was the young man's voice which became unsteady, for he did not know whether he was on his head or his heels. "That's all right." A sentiment of honour towards the absent Shepworth, who would not look after his own interests, made him end thus lamely. Mona laughed again, and was as enigmatic as the Sphinx. "It is extremely good of you, Lord Prelice," she went on in a guarded manner. "Lady Sophia can help me greatly to recover my position in Society." "You have never lost it," blurted out Prelice crossly. "I did lose it, and I have lost it," she answered sadly, "and I shall never recover it entirely until the murderer of my uncle is discovered. Lady Sophia, who really likes me----" "Loves you! Loves you!" "No, no! She likes me; let us say that she has an affection for me. That is a greatly-to-be-appreciated state of mind for one woman to be in towards another. That's rather a German sentence, isn't it?" "I don't know what you mean," muttered Prelice, beginning to find out that, after all his experiences in the four quarters of the globe, he was but a neophyte where women were concerned. "I mean that Lady Sophia's liking or affection for me will do a great deal to rehabilitate me, but that the punishment of Uncle Oliver's assassin will do more." "And your marriage with Ned will do most of all." Mona mocked him. "Marriage covers a multitude of sins, doesn't it?" Prelice clutched his head, but his hair was too closely cropped for him to grip. "I'm to be best man," he said feebly, and found a delight in torturing himself. "Oh! Has Ned selected you for that post?" "He did; when we were at Eton." "I see. Then he was engaged when at Eton. How precocious!"