"To see into the matter myself. I believe that Beryl creature is responsible for the whole thing." "But see," said Alice, picking up the paper, "he was at the theatre with Lucy and a Mrs. Webber." "I don't care. Failing Bernard, Julius comes in for the money." "He comes in for it even without that," said Alice, bitterly. "Don't you remember that Sir Simon disinherited Bernard because he would not give me up? I implored Bernard, for his own sake, to break our engagement, but he refused. He gave up all for me, and now he is dead--dea--dead. Oh," sobbed Alice, "how unhappy I am!" "How foolish you are," said Miss Berengaria, her eyes hard and bright. "Do you think a man, who could act towards you in so noble a way, would commit a cowardly murder, and then shirk the consequences? Not at all. I'm ashamed of you. I once loved," said the old lady, rising and marching energetically about the room, "and my lover was a fool and a villain. Bernard is neither. He is a fine fellow, God bless him and bring him safely out of this trouble! He shall have my help--yes, my best help," added Miss Berengaria nodding. "But he is dead." "He is not dead, you weak-minded, silly, hysterical girl. That sort of man has as many lives as a cat. He's alive, to vindicate his reputation and to bring home the crime to the real assassin." "But who can that be?" asked Alice, comforted by this assurance. "I don't know," said Miss Berengaria, taking a seat at the table. "Come and pour out my coffee, and eat." Alice dragged herself to the table and took up the silver pot. "I can't eat," she said faintly. "Yes, you can; and, what's more, you're going to. No nonsense with me, miss. You and I have a hard task before us." "What is that?" Miss Berengaria laid down her knife and fork with which she was about to carve a piece of bacon. "Well, I am astonished," she said, glaring. "In my young days a girl in love would have been ashamed to make such a speech. Why, bless me! haven't we got to prove Bernard's innocence?" "Will that bring him to life?" said Alice, bitterly. "It would, if it were necessary; but it isn't. Bernard's in hiding." "Can you be sure?" "Alice Malleson," said the resolute old dame, "if you were younger I would shake you and send you to bed on bread and water. You don't deserve to be loved by such a man. He gave up all for you, and you believe the worst of him." "Bernard has a temper, and he might have--" "But he didn't. I know he has a temper. I admire his temper. I saw him thrash a tramp for throwing away a loaf of bread, and that warmed my heart towards him. Had I married the villain I didn't marry, and he hadn't been such a villain as he was, I would have had a son just like Bernard--perhaps two or three. Dear! dear, what a loss to the British Empire that I never married."