"My duties kept me near Miss Pethram, so I saw Ferrari but rarely, and as he is devoted to me, naturally he missed my society. At the time I left Deswarth, I came to London to see about my marriage, and on my return--which was on a Sunday--Ferrari came down with me, as he was not singing that night. Is there anything strange in this?" "No; it seems quite natural," replied Maxwell, after a pause. "I would act the same way towards Kaituna." "Signor Ferrari," resumed Mrs. Belswin, coldly, "stayed that night at The Chequers, and returned, I believe, next morning to town. I did not see him, as, owing to the terrible death of Sir Rupert, I had to stay with Kaituna. I do not know how he spent the night. I do not know at what hour he returned in the morning." "But this scarf-pin?" "It is certainly his; but what of that? He may have come to Thornstream to see me, and lost it on the terrace." "If so, why did he not see you?" "I do not know. I know nothing beyond what I have told you; but set your mind at rest. Come here to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock, and I will take you to Signor Ferrari, who will doubtless be able to explain all to your satisfaction." "You will?" "Yes; at eleven to-morrow. I am sure he is innocent." "I hope so," said Maxwell, heartily, "if only for your sake." "You are still suspicious, I see," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a faint smile. "Well, it is only natural, and I hope your suspicions will be dispelled by Signor Ferrari's explanation. But now I must ask you to permit me to retire, as all this exciting talk has given me a headache. If, however, you will wait for Kaituna----" "Not to-night, thank you," said Maxwell, hastily taking his hat and stick. "I'm too disturbed to see her. Good-bye; I rely on your promise. To-morrow at eleven." "At eleven I will wait you," answered Mrs. Belswin, truthfully; "so at present good-bye, and don't think worse of me than you can help." Maxwell said nothing, but, bowing politely, left the room, while Mrs. Belswin, annoyed at his silence, stood frowning angrily. "He still suspects," she muttered, ringing the bell. "Ferrari must put an end to his suspicions--if he can." The servant entered the room. "A hansom at once!" She put on her cloak and bonnet and returned to the sitting-room to wait for the cab. "I'm in terrible danger," she said pulling on her gloves--"terrible danger. One false step, and all may be known. Ferrari is my only hope. Can he be guilty? Appearances are against him. If he is a murderer let him suffer, as long as he keeps silence." "The cab, ma'am." Mrs. Belswin went downstairs. "I don't care what happens," she cried, when driving away, "as long as I keep my child." CHAPTER XXX. A CLEVER DEFENCE.