‘What should I care about, pray? Do be more explicit and less violent.’ Bertha turned away angrily. Matilda answered sulkily enough: ‘One of us might have married him, if we’d had a fair chance.’ ‘A good thing for you you have not; he is no fit match for one of my daughters.’ ‘Mamma! What do you mean?’ ‘I mean that I shall look higher for you than that—cousin of yours.’ ‘Mamma! He is master of Ladywell!’ ‘_Is_ he master of Ladywell?’ responded Mrs. Belassis, with more spitefulness than caution. ‘That remains to be proved.’ ‘Mamma! What do you mean?’ ‘That I hardly know. I have been hearing a very curious story to-day.’ ‘Oh, what? Do tell us? About Phil?’ ‘Well, to speak more accurately, I should say about the man we have called Phil all this time.’ Bertha’s eyes were bright with excitement. ‘Oh, then there is a mystery after all! I always did think there was something odd about Phil, ever since Sir Herbert Moncrieff was so surprised that he was Mr. Debenham, not Mr. Torwood.’ Mrs. Belassis looked at her. ‘You suspected something odd then?’ ‘Yes; what Sir Herbert said afterwards, when he saw Maud, was so funny. I didn’t mean to tell anyone, and I promised Phil I wouldn’t; but if he’s going to marry Roma, I don’t care about keeping his secret any longer.’ ‘Speak out, child. What secret? Did he confide in you, and ask you to keep quiet? Just explain yourself,’ said Mrs. Belassis impatiently. ‘I will, if you’ll only give me time.’ Bertha, who liked to be important, was delighted to be able to impart anything so interesting to her mother. ‘You heard how Sir Herbert greeted Phil as Mr. Torwood, and how surprised he was when Phil told him his name was Debenham?’ ‘Yes, yes; go on.’ ‘Well, when we were walking about the gardens together, and he saw Maud, he knew directly who she was, because he said she was so exactly like the Philip Debenham he had met in America. When he remembered that Tor had just said _he_ was Philip Debenham he got a little confused, and evidently didn’t quite know what to say. However, I didn’t pretend to notice particularly what he had said, and we dropped the subject. But I didn’t forget it, and I told Phil about it one day soon afterwards.’ ‘Did you? What did he say? Was he put out?’ asked Mrs. Belassis eagerly. ‘No, not at all; at least, he didn’t seem so. He didn’t seem to care a bit; and he laughed when I promised to say nothing about it, and didn’t appear to mind at all. He made me think very little of it myself.’ ‘That was his cunning,’ said Mrs. Belassis viciously. ‘It is quite in keeping with his cool audacity and daring all throughout. Bertha, your evidence is of the greatest value at such a juncture. It is proof positive of the suspicion I have been puzzling over for an hour or more.’ ‘Oh! what, mamma? Do tell us!’ urged Matilda.