"I wanted to take my own and come down here," said the woman. "I know you did, but I would not allow it," said Vivian, and continued his story rapidly, while Beatrice, perfectly still, listened intently. "It would have broken my father's heart. And then," he added, turning to Beatrice, "I found out how vile she was." "I never deceived you--never," said Mrs. Paslow. "No. You had that redeeming point," said her husband; "as a wife I could find no fault with you in that way. Had you been good and kind, I might have come to love you, as I did when we were children together. But your nature was essentially false and wicked. Under the tuition of Alpenny you developed into an adventuress, and made the worst use of your talents." "But for Alpenny we should have starved," she reminded him. "I did not know that," he retorted. "You said that the money had been left to you by your god-mother; only when it was too late did I learn that Alpenny gave you the money for having stolen things. And then I was dragged into your evil ways." "You did steal," insisted Mrs. Paslow. "I did not. Beatrice, one day we were in a draper's shop in the West End. This woman stole some lace; she was arrested, and I was arrested also as her accomplice." "Oh Vivian!" "Oh Vivian!" mocked Mrs. Paslow. "You see he is a thief." "You lie," said Paslow angrily. "Beatrice does not believe that." "No! no! I would never believe it," said Beatrice. "You fool!" scoffed Mrs. Paslow. "You angel!" cried Vivian fervently, and then proceeded rapidly with his nauseous story. "Under my feigned name I was tried--and thus, thank God! I was enabled to save my father from dying of a broken heart. I was accused, but Tuft, Alpenny's lawyer, defended me--not from kindness. No. Alpenny, by this accusation of theft, secured a hold over me, which he used after my father's death to extort the property from me. This is why I am so poor. Alpenny and my wife"--he laid a scornful emphasis on the word--"got all my money." "And we had a right to," said Mrs. Paslow. "I am your wife, and Alpenny, through Tuft, saved you from going to gaol." "For his own ends merely," retorted Vivian. "I had to pay bitterly for his aid.--This woman"--he again pointed to Maud--"was condemned, as it was proved that she was an expert thief, and she was sentenced to a few months' imprisonment." "To five months," said Mrs. Paslow shamelessly. "I was acquitted; but the judge read me a lecture on the kind of society I kept. And Heaven help me!" cried Vivian, "then was the first time that I knew what sort of society my marriage had led me into." "You were always a greenhorn," said Mrs. Paslow, patting her hair into shape, and arranging her ruffled plumes.