“And I think it was all right,” Zizi defended. “So long as Mr Varian knew, so long as Mrs Curtis was satisfied, I don’t see where any harm was done to anybody.” “I don’t either, miss,” said Mrs Briggs eagerly. “I’m gratified to hear you say that, and I hope, sir, you feel the same way about it.” “Why, I scarcely know what to say,” Wise returned. “It depends on whether you view the whole thing from a judicial——” “Or from a viewpoint of common sense and kind-heartedness!” Zizi said. “I think it was fine,—and I’m only sorry for poor Mr Varian who had to bear the weight of his secret all alone through life.” “Oh, Zizi, that would explain the pearls!” Wise cried. “Of course it does! He had to leave them to a Varian,—and Betty wasn’t a Varian,—oh, Penny, what a situation! That poor man!” “And it explains a lot of other things,” Wise said, thoughtfully. “Well, Mrs Briggs, we’ll be going now. As to this matter, I think I can say, if you’ll continue to keep it secret, we will do the same, at least for the present. Did you never tell anybody? Not even your husband?” “I never did. It was the only secret I ever kept from my husband, he’s dead now this seven year, poor man,—but I felt I couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t my secret. When I took Mr Varian’s money, I promised never to tell about the child. And I kept my word. Until now,” she added, and Wise said, “You had to tell now, Mrs Briggs, if you hadn’t told willingly and frankly, I could have brought the law to bear on your decision.” “That’s what I thought, sir. Please tell me of the child? Is she now a fine girl?” Wise realized that up in this far away hamlet the news of Betty Varian’s disappearance had not become known, so he merely said, “I’ve never seen her, but I’m told she is a fine and lovely girl. Her mother is a charming woman.” “I’m glad you say so, sir, for though I was sorry for her, she was a terror for peevishness and fretting. Yet, after she got the little girl she seemed transformed, she was that happy and content.” Back to the inn went Pennington Wise and Zizi. “The most astonishing revelation I ever heard,” was Wise’s comment, as he closed the door of Zizi’s sitting room and sat down to talk it over. “Where do you come out?” “At all sorts of unexpected places. Now, Zizi, have you realized yet that Lawrence North married that Mrs Curtis?” “You’re sure?” “Practically; he married a widow named Curtis, who formerly lived in Greenvale, Vermont. I’ve not struck any other. And besides, it connects North with this whole Varian case and I’m sure he is mixed up in it.” “But how?” “That’s the question. But here’s a more immediate question, Zizi. Are we to tell Mrs Varian what we have learned from the nurse up here?” “How can we help telling her?” “But, think, Zizi. Have we a right to divulge Frederick Varian’s secret? After he spent his life keeping it quiet, shall we be justified in blurting it out——”