"Yes. Do you know him? A dear creature--so clever. He was my solicitor in a libel action against _The Penny Trumpet_, for saying that I was an ungrammatical scribbler. Just fancy! And they call me the new George Eliot. We lost our case, I'm sorry to say. Judges are such brutes! Miss Pexworth says they are, ever since she failed to get damages for her breach of promise case." "Here comes Mr. Hilliston," said Larcher, rather tired of this long-tongued lady. "I know him very well, he is my guardian." "How very delightful!" said Mrs. Durham, with the accent on the "very." "Oh, Mr. Hilliston," she continued, as the lawyer approached, "we were just talking about you!" "I trust the absent were right for once," replied Hilliston, with an artificial smile and a swift glance at Claude. "I have just come to say good-by." "Oh, not yet, surely not yet! Really!" babbled Mrs. Durham with shallow enthusiasm. Then finding Hilliston was resolved to go, and catching sight of a newly arrived celebrity, she hastened, after the amiable fashion of her kind, to speed the parting guest. "Well, if you must, you must. Good-by, good-by! Excuse me, I see Mr. Rawler, a delightful man--writes plays, you know. The new Shakspere; yes!" and thus talking she melted away with a babble of words, leaving Hilliston and his ward alone. They were mutually surprised to see one another, Claude because he knew his guardian did not affect Bohemianism, and Hilliston because he thought that the young man had left town. The meeting was hardly a pleasant one, as Hilliston dreaded lest Mrs. Bezel should have said too much, and so prejudiced Claude against him. "I understood from your refusal of my invitation that you had gone to Thorston with Tait," said he, after a pause. "I am going to-morrow or the next day," replied Claude quickly, "but in any event I intended to call on you before I left town." "Indeed!" said Hilliston nervously; "you have something to tell me?" "Yes. I have seen Mrs. Bezel." "Good. You have seen Mrs. Bezel." "And I have made a discovery." "Oh! Has the lady informed you who committed the crime?" "No. But she told me her name." "Margaret Bezel!" murmured Hilliston, wondering what was coming. "Not Margaret Bezel, but Julia Larcher, my mother." "She--she told you that?" gasped Hilliston, his self-control deserting him for the moment. "Yes. I know why she feigned death; I know how you have protected her. You have been a kind friend to me, Mr. Hilliston, and to my mother. I am doubly in your debt." Hilliston took the hand held out to him by Claude, and pressed it cordially. The speech relieved him from all apprehension. He now knew that Mrs. Bezel had kept their secret, and immediately took advantage of the restored confidence of Claude. His quick wit grasped the situation at once.