"I should have thought," remarked the doctor, sarcastically, "that like everyone else, you would judge my friend Herries as guilty." Kyles shrugged his square shoulders, and brushed some fluff from the breast of his blue serge coat. "From what Inspector Trent says, it would seem that Herries--that is the name, isn't it?--is the criminal," he drawled, and his voice was not the least attractive thing about him, "but that makes me believe the man to be innocent. Had Herries killed Sir Simon, I fancy he would have arranged things better to secure his own safety." "Perhaps he lost his head," suggested Maud maliciously. "Criminals do, you know, even the cleverest." "Dear!" said Kyles, so grimly that the adjective was robbed of its value. "I have told you before, and I tell you again, that your cousin is innocent." "Oh," said Browne quietly, "then you know that Herries is Miss Tedder's cousin?" "I know all the family history," replied Kyles lazily. "As I am to marry Miss Tedder, I considered it my duty to learn it. "It was my place," boomed a heavy, gloomy voice coming from the back of the hall, "to inform Captain Kyles of the Tedder history." The stout and stately female who approached in this dramatic way, was Mrs. Mountford, the _ci-devant_ governess who had improved Maud's young mind, and who now acted as her somewhat cheerless companion. She was of the fleshly type, with a firm jaw and a heavy jowl, and a pair of cold grey eyes. The face was that of a hanging judge, and she would have looked well in a wig and gown, seated on the Bench. Before that stony eye and impassive countenance the most hopeful prisoner would have collapsed at once. Invariably arrayed in deepest black, she glittered like a starry midnight with jet beads and jet trimmings, with bugles and chains and ornaments. She wore jet bracelets to match a jet brooch, and jet earrings of the Albert period; lengthy earrings, like the jet chain which was wound like a cable round her fat neck. Mrs. Mountford only needed a plume of feathers to resemble a hearse-horse, and her mere presence darkened the none too cheerful hall. Dr. Browne did not like this female mute, for in spite of his cynicism, he could be cheerful on occasions, which Mrs. Mountford, in mourning for her neighbours' faults, never was. How Maud Tedder, light-minded, frivolous and gay, could endure the wet-blanket society of this raven was more than the doctor could understand. And he prided himself on understanding the feminine character. "I should have thought that Sir Simon could best have informed Captain Kyles of all that there was to be known," he said in reply to the gloomy lady, "that is," he added pointedly, "if Sir Simon approved of the engagement." "Of course papa approved," broke in Maud smartly. "Though, as I have already said, I don't see what business it is of yours. Did you come here to make yourself disagreeable?"