"Please don't go yet; I must tell you all," pleaded Mrs. Maroney.
"Wait till to-morrow," said Madam Imbert, "it is a bad time to talk."
"Madam Imbert, you are now my only friend, and I would like to have your opinion as to who it is that is writing these letters about me to my husband. If I knew the dirty dog, I would put a ball through him. I am not fairly treated. I am Maroney's wife, and he should not believe such slanders against me. As long as I live I will do all I can for him."
"Mrs. Maroney," said Madam Imbert, getting up, "I must not listen to you; I will go."
"Please don't! Who can it be that is writing these reports from Jenkintown?" again enquired Mrs. Maroney.
"That is a point upon which it is hard for me to enlighten you," replied the Madam; "it might be Barclay or some of Josh.'s friends. Josh. is a good clever fellow, for a brother-in-law, but I would not trust him too much; he is a little inclined to talk, and Barclay may have drawn something from him and written to your husband; I know De Forest don't like him."
"I will see Josh. at once, and find out about this Barclay," said Mrs. Maroney.
"You had better wait till morning," said Madam Imbert, as she rose to leave the room; "I must go to bed, and you had better follow my example."
Mrs. Maroney began to show the effects of the brandy she had been drinking, but she took Madam Imbert's arm and went to the door with her. It was now ten o'clock, but she requested the Madam to take a turn in the garden with her. They had hardly taken two steps before Mrs. Maroney stumbled over a man concealed at the side of the house. It was Rivers, but he was up and off before the frightened ladies had a chance to see him. Madam Imbert screamed lustily, although she well knew who it was.
"D——n him," said Mrs. Maroney, "that's that De Forest; I will kill him, sure! What was he doing here?"