'And the venerable fossil――in good repair, I trust?' asked Sylvana. 'What or whom do you mean by that term, venerable fossil?' asked Winefred quietly but firmly. Sylvana, trifling with the spills, threw out some from the vase that had contained them. These she leisurely collected to return them to the same receptacle. A provoking smile was on her face, but she made no answer. 'I asked you a question, Miss Jones. Whom did you mean when you spoke of a venerable fossil?' 'Oh, you and Mr. Holwood know best,' sneered Sylvana, turning her head about to contemplate the 'Flight into Egypt.' 'If you refer to my mother, she is well.' Mr. Holwood gasped and fell back. 'Oh, your mother――I thought her name was Marley. I beg pardon for my mistake.' A long silence ensued. Mrs. Tomkin-Jones endeavoured by looks and signals to silence her daughter. Jesse took Winefred's arm. Sylvana continued playing with the spills with the same exasperating smile on her lips. Winefred was composed. She answered, 'My father can give you the best reply as to her name.' Mr. Holwood shook like an aspen leaf, and turned about as though he sought the door by which to run away. 'My name is the same as hers,' said Winefred. 'I will bear that of Holwood only if I have a right to do so.' She waited. No word came from her father. 'I am glad of this opportunity having arisen at once,' said the girl. 'I returned to Bath with full intent to have everything cleared up. On descending from the coach, I went direct to my father. I have brought him here that misunderstandings might at once be got rid of. I wish everything to be open and plain before those who have so kindly received me.' Jesse pressed her arm. 'I hate everything that is not true and aboveboard. I have been unhappy here hitherto, through no lack of kindness or consideration on the part of Mrs. Tomkin-Jones and of you, Jesse, but because I was in a false position. I myself did not know, I do not know now, how I stand. Am I Winefred Holwood, or am I Winefred Marley? Father, answer me that.' He was turned half round and was blowing at his finger-tips as though playing on pan-pipes. She waited, and then repeated her question in a peremptory tone. 'Really, my dear, you take me aback. I was unprepared. This is wholly, entirely unexpected.' 'It is but a plain answer that I ask for as to facts,' said Winefred. 'I will accept whichever name you say, but, remember this, father, I will no longer――no, not for a day――suffer my poor mother to be thrust out of all consideration and called my nurse. Anyhow, after what has occurred, I shall return to her again, be she Marley or Holwood. My mother she is, and dear, past words to say, she has always been, is, and ever will be to me. Father, if you desire to have me here at any time with you, and if you value a daughter's love, you will seek and find me in my mother's arms; whether that mother be Marley or Holwood by name――she is mother to me. Now, which is it?'