own request. Did Mr. Bygrave ever give you
that letter? Don't agitate yourself, sir! One
word of reply will do—Yes? or No?"

He read the paper, and looked up at her with
growing bewilderment and fear. She obstinately
waited until he spoke. "No," he said, faintly;
"I never got the letter."

"First proof!" said Mrs. Lecount taking the
paper from him, and putting it back in the bag.
"One more, with your kind permission, before we
come to things more serious still. I gave you a
written description, sir, at Aldborough, of a
person not named; and I asked you to compare it
with Miss Bygrave, the next time you were in
her company. After having first shown the
description to Mr. Bygrave—it is useless to deny
it now, Mr. Noel; your friend at North Shingles
is not here to help you!—after having first shown
my note to Mr. Bygrave, you made the
comparison; and you found it fail in the most
important particular. There were two little moles
placed close together on the left side of the
neck, in my description of the unknown lady,
and there were no little moles at all when you
looked at Miss Bygrave's neck. I am old enough
to be your mother, Mr. Noel. If the question is
not indelicate—may I ask what the present state
of your knowledge is, on the subject of your
wife's neck?"

She looked at him with a merciless steadiness.
He drew back a few steps, cowering under her
eye. "I can't say," he stammered; "I don't
know. What do you mean by these questions?
I never thought about the moles afterwards; I
never looked. She wears her hair low——"

"She has excellent reason to wear it low, sir,"
remarked Mrs. Lecount . "We will try and lift
that hair, before we have done with the subject.
When I came out here to find you in the garden,
I saw a neat young person, through the kitchen
window, with her work in her hand, who looked
to my eyes like a lady's-maid. Is this young
person your wife's maid? I beg your pardon,
sir, did you say yes? In that case, another
question, if you please. Did you engage her, or
did your wife?"

"I engaged her——"

"While I was away? While I was in total
ignorance that you meant to have a wife, or a
wife's maid?"

"Yes."

"Under those circumstances, Mr. Noel, you
cannot possibly suspect me of conspiring to
deceive you, with the maid for my instrument. Go
into the house, sir, while I wait here. Ask the
woman who dresses Mrs. Noel Vanstone's hair,
morning and night, whether her mistress has a
mark on the left side of her neck, and (if so)
what that mark is?"

He walked a few steps towards the house,
without uttering a word—then stopped, and
looked back at Mrs. Lecount. His blinking
eyes were steady, and his wizen face had become
suddenly composed. Mrs. Lecount advanced a
little and joined him. She saw the change; but,
with all her experience of him, she failed to
interpret the true meaning of it.

"Are you in want of a pretence, sir?" she
asked. "Are you at a loss to account to your
wife's maid for such a question as I wish you to
put to her? Pretences are easily found, which
will do for persons in her station of life. Say I
have come here, with news of a legacy for Mrs.
Noel Vanstone, and that there is a question of
her identity to settle, before she can receive the
money."

She pointed to the house. He paid no attention
to the sign. His face grew paler and paler.
Without moving or speaking, he stood and
looked at her.

"Are you afraid?" asked Mrs. Lecount.

Those words roused him; those words lit a
spark of the fire of manhood in him, at last.
He turned on her, like a sheep on a dog.

"I won't be questioned and ordered!" he
broke out, trembling violently under the new
sensation of his own courage. "I won't be
threatened and mystified any longer! How did
you find me out at this place? What do you
mean by coming here with your hints and your
mysteries? What have you got to say against
my wife?"

Mrs. Lecount composedly opened the
travelling-bag, and took out her smelling-bottle, in
case of emergency.

"You have spoken to me in plain words," she
said. "In plain words, sir, you shall have your
answer. Are you too angry to listen?"

Her looks and tones alarmed him, in spite of
himself. His courage began to sink again; and,
desperately as he tried to steady it, his voice
trembled when he answered her.

"Give me my answer," he said, "and give it
at once."

"Your commands shall be obeyed, sir, to the
letter," replied Mrs. Lecount. "I have come
here with two objects. To open your eyes to
your own situation; and to save your fortune—
perhaps your life. Your situation is this. Miss
Bygrave has married you, under a false character
and a false name. Can you rouse your memory?
Can you call to mind the disguised woman who
threatened you in Vauxhall Walk? That woman
—as certainly as I stand here—is now your wife."

He looked at her in breathless silence. His
lips falling apart; his eyes fixed in vacant inquiry.
The suddenness of the disclosure had over-
reached its own end. It had stupified him.

"My wife?" he repeated—and burst into an
imbecile laugh.

"Your wife," reiterated Mrs. Lecount.

At the repetition of those two words, the strain
on his faculties relaxed. A thought dawned on
him for the first time. His eyes fixed on her
with a furtive alarm, and he drew back hastily.
"Mad!" he said to himself, with a sudden
remembrance of what his friend Mr. Bygrave had
told him at Aldborough; sharpened by his own
sense of the haggard change that he saw in her
face.