"Incredible, indeed," replied her mother. "If it be really true that he is guilty, the act must have been committed during a fit of mental aberration when he was not responsible for his actions. But we shall learn the truth when your papa returns." "Is not papa back?" "Not yet. It is quite fifteen miles to Dunford, where Colonel Winslow was to catch the Scotch express. But he cannot be long now." "How would it be," said Walter, "if I were to have the bay mare saddled and ride down the Dunford road and meet Mr. Drelincourt on his way back? I could then tell him all about the rumor, after which he might perhaps prefer to drive direct into Sunbridge and find out the particulars for himself before coming home." "An excellent idea, Walter," said Mrs. Drelincourt. "Go at once, and come to me the moment you return." As soon as he was gone she said to Marian: "Open one of the windows a little way, dear; I feel slightly faint." Then to herself she added: "My heart feels as if it were constricted by a band of steel." She was lying back in a capacious leathern easy chair. Marian having opened one of the windows, unceremoniously twisted up the outside sheet of the _Times_ and proceeded gently to fan her mother with it. Presently the latter looked up at her with a smile. "I am better now, darling," she said. "This sultry weather always tries me." Marian stooped and kissed her. Then she said: "Oh, mamma, what if it should prove that poor Roden is really out of his mind!" Mrs. Drelincourt sat up quickly in her chair. "How careless of me to forget!" she exclaimed. "There is a letter on the table from him addressed to your papa, which may possibly explain everything. Run and give it to Walter, and tell him----" "Here's papa, himself," broke in Marian, as the door opened to admit Drelincourt. "I am so glad you are come!" sighed his wife, as she turned to him with a quick lighting up of her spiritualized face. Then to her daughter: "Hurry after Walter. You will perhaps be in time to stop him." "And I am glad that you are glad," replied Drelincourt, regarding her from a little distance with a smile, as he proceeded in leisurely fashion to draw off his-driving gloves. "And yet, all things considered, I have not been long gone. We had quite a race, I must tell you, to catch the express." "Then you have heard nothing of this dreadful rumor which has put us all so much about?" "You mean some rumor in connection with Roden Marsh?" "Yes." "Old Tyson, the turnpike keeper, did mumble something to me while he was counting out my change." "Did he tell you that Roden gave himself up last night as being the murderer of--of you know whom?" "It was something to that effect I gathered from Tyson." "Oh, Felix, how coolly you take it! How can you--how can you?" "Because, my dearest and best, I am absolutely sure that in Rodd's self accusation there is not the slightest grain of truth."