"With Mr. Paslow's marriage to me?" asked Beatrice, striving to regain her calmness, and emulate the sang-froid of this cold, audacious woman, who appeared to have no feelings. "Well, no," drawled Mrs. Paslow, "not exactly. I never did care to benefit my fellow-creatures to that extent. I refer to a marriage I wished to make with a rich American. However, his mother stopped the marriage, and I found myself without a natural protector. Therefore, as I heard from Major Ruck that Vivian proposed to make you his wife, I came here to save you, and stop him from committing bigamy." "Which you just now proposed to commit yourself?" said Beatrice, with cold contempt. Mrs. Paslow looked at her between half-closed eyelids, and shrugged her finely moulded shoulders. "Quite so," she said politely; "but I have my reasons for risking imprisonment." "Reasons connected with money," sneered Vivian. "Connected with over a million--pounds, not dollars. Well?" "Well,"--he faced her squarely--"and what do you propose to do now?" "One moment," interposed Beatrice, now perfectly calm, and determined to break down this woman's composure; "I should like to know how you carried out this plot of a feigned death." There was a case of cigarettes on the table belonging to Vivian: Mrs. Paslow cast a disdainful, and rather amused look on Beatrice, and lighted one of the little rolls of tobacco. When the smoke was wreathing round her fashionable hat, she spoke with great calmness and appeared in no way upset by the imperious tone of the woman whom her husband loved. "Certainly," she replied in a low, sweet voice, which seemed to be one of her greatest charms, and she had many. "As I explained, I wanted to be free of Vivian to marry a richer man than he was, or is likely to be. When I was ill, and he came to see me, the plan suggested itself. I took the doctor into my confidence, and he agreed, for a consideration, to forward my aims. My double was really ill,--oh yes, with consumption; she could not live, so----" "What do you mean by your double?" asked Beatrice abruptly. "Vivian can tell you. He knew of my double." "I did,--I do: but I did not think you would pass her off as yourself, Maud." Mrs. Paslow removed the cigarette from her mouth and smiled. "It was a capital plot," she said musingly; "and but that I want you to be again my husband, would have succeeded." "What about your double?" asked Beatrice pertinaciously. "Oh, she was not a twin sister, as you seem to think. I am the only daughter and only child of Joseph Orchard, who was a butler, and is a shepherd. You see," she added, leaning her arms on the table and addressing her rival in an amused tone, "I have no false pride about me. When occasion serves I can say that I am the daughter of an army officer, or of a clergyman, or of anyone with a position. I have done such things in my time. But to you I can be frank, since there is nothing to be gained by telling lies."