From the smirking countenance of her ally, Darcy turned to the lowering front of the enemy. “Well, you see,” she said with an air of great candor, after deliberately tearing out the paragraph, “it’s rather an involved matter.” “I don’t see anything involved about it,” returned the lofty and determined Maud. “Who is this man?” “Yes; who is he?” echoed Helen, coming mildly to her support. From the corner of her eye the badgered girl could see the object of the inquiry. Still smiling! It was too much. Then and there Darcy committed that ignoble act known and reprehended in the higher sporting circles, wherein Andy Dunne moves, as “passing the buck.” “_You_ tell them, Monty,” she said sweetly. Of a great statesman, now dead, it has been written: Cheated by treachery and beguiled by Fate, Once in his life we well may call him great. Thus with Mr. Jacob Remsen _alias_ Sir Montrose Veyze. Out of conscious nothing he had, in that precious moment’s respite, evoked an instantaneous and full-fledged plan to meet the crisis. Fixing upon Maud as the more formidable antagonist, he impaled her on the beam of his monocle. “Haw!” he ejaculated. “You’ve heard about the Veyze Succession, I assume.” “Never,” said Maud stoutly. “_What?_ Nevah heard of the King’s Judgment? Why, my _deah_ lady, we’re as well known as the Tower of London or the—the Crystal Palace.” “In America, you see,” explained the more pacific Helen, “these things don’t get to us.” “But I assuah you,” cried the other, turning his glassy regard upon her, “your atrocious American press has been quite full of it from time to time. Come, now! You’re spoofing me. You must have read of the Veyze divided title. What?” Hypnotized by the glare of the monocle, Helen’s imagination inspired her to confess that she did vaguely recall something about it, which was the more gratifying to the representative of the Veyzes in that he had introduced the press feature on the inspiration of the moment. The less impressionable Maud was not to be diverted from the main issue. “Even if we knew all about your family, it would not explain Sir Montrose Veyze being here in America at the same time that he is being received by the King in London.” “Wearing two swords. Doesn’t the press report mention that? It should,” put in the Veyze representative conscientiously piling up picturesque detail to embellish and fortify his case. “Don’t forget that, please. It’s a Veyze prerogative.” “Is it a Veyze prerogative to be in two places at once?” queried the cross-examiner. “Or—there aren’t two of you, I suppose.” “Of _cawse!_” The accused delivered the answer in a tone of calm and wondering contempt. Obviously he was incredulous that such ignorance as his interrogator displayed could exist in a Christian country. “_Two_ Sir Montrose Veyzes? Of the same name and title?” Maud was glaring, now. “Of _cawse!_ The famous Veyze twins. Though we’re not rahlly twins any more, you understand.”