Although he spoke English, there was something in tone and look so unmistakably identical with those of the supposed Italian, that an expression of utter mystification passed over all faces, save those of the two conspirators. Even Miss Marjory looked puzzled for a moment; but she quickly mastered the true bearing of past events, and laughed to herself heartily and silently. Tor continued in his gravest way: ‘Aunt Olive, you seem equally fascinated by my friend. His charms of person seem so to entrance you that you cannot even eat your breakfast. Tor, old man, I shan’t be able to take you into society again, if you are going to cut me out like this.’ Phil’s face quivered. He tried to answer, but failed signally, and, after several struggles to restrain himself, gave way and laughed irrepressively. Maud sprang from her chair with flushed cheeks and dilated eyes. She made a sort of rush towards the man she had believed to be her brother, and then stopped suddenly short. ‘Phil,’ she said, in a trembling voice, ‘what does it all mean?’ ‘What?’ ‘You know—you know quite well. Who is that man? and who are you?’ ‘“That man,” as you forcibly describe him, is your brother, and my esteemed friend, Philip Debenham; and I, who by force of circumstances have heretofore been his _locum tenens_ and representative, am now able to lay aside my borrowed plumes, and make myself known to you under my true name—Torrington Torwood.’ Phil had risen too, and was standing beside his sister. ‘Maud,’ he said softly, ‘my own dear little sister, have you no word for me? You used to be fond of me, when we were little children playing together by the wishing-well. Our wish has come true—Ladywell is mine, but I shall not value it half so much as I do my sister’s love.’ She knew him then, knew without a doubt that this man was her own brother; and with a sense of mingled sorrow, joy, and relief, she turned to him, and put her arms about his neck. ‘Phil, dear Phil! It is you after all, then! Oh, Phil! what does it all mean?’ ‘It means that I have had the noblest, most generous friend that ever man did have. Maud, my little sister, you must love him for my sake and his own. We both owe very much to him.’ Phil had whispered these words as they stood close together, and the tumult of wondering voices drowned his low tones, which were only heard by Maud. She knew well enough that what he said was true, and that to Tor’s courage and independence of action they did owe very much. He was not her brother at all; but she could not lose the sense of intimacy which the past three months had established between them. It was impossible all in a moment to realize that, in a manner, they were now strangers to one another. She turned from Phil, who was at once folded in Aunt Olive’s loving embrace, and faced Tor with one of her most bewitching looks—smiles, blushes, shyness and confidence all struggling together for mastery.