"I can easily answer that question," answered Mrs. Medhurst, with a short, contemptuous laugh. "I went out into the garden a few moments ago to get a little cool air, it has been so stifling to-day, and as I walked down the drive I saw something which looked bright in the moonlight. I picked it up, and discovered it was your lost property. I meant to give it you in the morning; you had better take it now." With this she stooped and gathered the gemmed chain into her hands, and held it out to Margaret with a little cold smile. Margaret took it with shaking fingers, the ready words of gratitude which would ordinarily have sprung from her heart at its restoration seemed frozen upon her lips. There was a moment's tense silence when each looked into the eyes of the other, and then, almost unconsciously, the glances of both, as if by intuition, turned towards the door. There stood the master of the house, his face drawn and white, an expression of silent misery on his countenance, as he looked steadily at his wife. A start--and a smothered groan escaped her. "Gordon--you--you--have--heard?" she whispered, in low, broken tones. "Yes--I have heard, and understood, Lucille," he answered slowly. In a flash the woman's whole demeanour changed; with a cry almost like that of a tortured animal, she sank down at Margaret's feet. "Oh--I've broken--my promise. I couldn't help it---- I--I---was so tempted," she moaned. "It was--so--lovely--I just wanted to have it--to look at sometimes---- Gordon--Gordon, forgive me!--it shall--be the last time--I promise----" "Get up," he answered sternly, giving her his hand--and, helping her to rise, he led her to a couch, where she buried her head in the cushions, smothering the sobs which shook her frame. "Miss Woodford, you now know the tragedy of our lives," he said bitterly. "We place ourselves in your hands; we have no right to ask your mercy. Perhaps you would--like--to--send for the police," he added slowly. "Send for--the police? What for?" gasped Margaret. "To arrest me," he answered. "But--why--_you_? It has nothing to do with you, Mr. Medhurst!" she replied, in amazement. "I shall give myself up, and admit the theft to whoever may offer an arrest," he answered. "Mr. Medhurst--I cannot understand," answered Margaret. "No, Miss Woodford--of course you cannot. I will explain: My wife has made a similar _mistake_ before, and I have served some months in a world behind the scenes. You must understand," he continued, almost fiercely, "I am ready to serve again." Then, turning towards Mrs. Medhurst, he said, "Hush--hush, Lucille; you will be ill if you excite yourself so." All his sternness had vanished, lost in an infinite pity as he bent over his wife's couch. She clutched his hand hysterically. "Gordon--you shan't suffer again. Tell her to go and give information--I will be here, and I will admit I took it. Tell her to go--go quickly----"