‘Certainly I do.’ ‘And do you expect to be believed?’ ‘Well, yes, I certainly did.’ Miss Marjory laughed in genuine amusement. ‘Don’t talk nonsense to me, Torrington Torwood. I know better than to believe it.’ The stranger looked at her with his pleasant smile. ‘But, Miss Descartes, you really must believe me.’ ‘Believe that your name is Debenham! Stuff and nonsense! As if anyone would ever believe that, who had known your father. You are the very image of what Guy Torwood was at your age. Debenham indeed! I never heard anything so ridiculous in all my life—never!’ ‘But, my dear madam——’ ‘But, my dear sir, it is not the least use your trying to make a fool of me. Guy Torwood was a great friend of mine—indeed, he once did me the honour to make me an offer of marriage; and if he had done so a second time, I’m not sure but what I should have said “yes.” But he saw Lucile Torrington, and it was all over with him then. However, it isn’t very likely that I have forgotten Guy Torwood, or that I should not recognise his son, who has grown up his very image.’ ‘But, Miss Descartes——’ ‘But, Mr. Torwood, don’t you try that on any more with me. But for a mere accident, I might have been your mother. What is the use of your trying to deceive me? You had better give it up with a good grace.’ The young man seemed to think so too, for his face changed, and the smiling assurance was replaced by an expression of serious gravity, which surprised Miss Marjory, who had merely fancied that a boyish trick was being played off upon her. ‘Miss Marjory,’ said Tor, unconsciously falling into the name that he had learnt from his father’s lips, ‘I see that I cannot keep up my disguise before you. But may I ask as a great favour, involving more than I can explain, that I may still be Philip Debenham to you and all here, and that you will not betray my identity to any living soul? I throw myself upon your mercy, Miss Marjory; I do not think you will readily betray your old friend’s son.’ His earnestness startled Miss Marjory. ‘Sit down,’ she said, suiting the action to the words herself—‘sit down; I must understand more of this. I hope you do not mean that you have brought your honoured father’s name into such disgrace, that you are obliged to change it for a stranger’s.’ ‘No, no,’ answered Tor quickly; ‘not that. I have never——’ then, bethinking himself that his present course of conduct might not be approved in the eyes of the world, he paused, and added, ‘I do not think I have ever done what _he_ would have been ashamed to witness.’ Miss Marjory’s face cleared. There was a frankness in Tor’s manner which disarmed suspicion. This manner had often stood him in good stead of late, and did so at the present crisis. She looked sharply at him, and then began to ask pertinent questions. ‘You admit that you are Torrington Torwood?’ ‘I have no choice in the matter,’ answered Tor, with a smile; ‘I am forced to do so.’