John Tregenna evidently, for he made no scruple about taking Mr Penwynn's seat at his table, and writing letter after letter, ringing twice for Chynoweth to answer some question, and then going on with his work, over which he had been very intent for quite an hour, when there was a tap at the door. "Come in. Well, Chynoweth, Mr Penwynn arrived?" "No, sir. Here's a lady, sir, wants to see you. She says she has been up to your house, and they said you were here." "A lady? Is it Miss Penwynn?" "No," said a voice which made Tregenna sink back in his chair; "it is not Miss Penwynn;" and Madge Mullion, closely veiled, and looking tall in the thick cloak she wore, walked straight into the room. Chynoweth hesitated for a moment, and then softly withdrew, nodding his head. "So the devil is going to get his due, eh?" he said to himself. "I'd give something if I could go down to listening at key-holes, but I can't do it--I can't do it--I can't do it!" and he went back to his desk. "You here, Miss Mullion?" exclaimed Tregenna, making an effort to recover his composure. "Yes, I am here," she said, very sternly; and Tregenna noticed that it seemed to be no longer the weak, vain, flattery-loving girl who was speaking, but a woman made worldly and strong by trouble. "And what can I do for you, Miss Mullion?" he said, coolly. "Will you take a seat?" She stood gazing at him without speaking--without moving, while his dark, handsome face grew calmer and more composed. "I came--to ask you--a question," she said at last, in measured tones; and, as she spoke, she pressed one hand upon her breast, as if to aid her in speaking coolly. "Certainly," he said politely; "but this is not my office, Miss Mullion, and I have no right to transact legal business here." As he spoke he took a sheet of foolscap paper, and a fresh dip of ink, as if to make notes of her business. "I came to ask you, John Tregenna," she said at last, in answer to his inquiring look, "whether the report that I have heard is true." "Report? True?" he said. "Really, Miss Mullion--" "I have heard," she continued, speaking in a slow, painful way, every word sounding harsh and metallic, while her face was fixed and stony in its immobility--"I have heard a report that you are--to be married--to Rhoda Penwynn." "Well, really, Miss Mullion," he said, smiling, "this is a strange question;" and he looked at her with an amused, perfectly unruffled expression. "Is it true?" she said, in a louder voice, which Tregenna knew must reach the outer office. "Well, really--it is somewhat strange that you should come and ask me such a question, Miss Mullion; but, since you have asked it--yes, I am." Madge raised her veil as he made this avowal, but it seemed to give her no shock; there was no trace of emotion in her face, as she gazed straight in his eyes. "And what of me?" she said at last. "I beg your pardon?" "What of your child?" she said, in the same harsh ringing voice.