"But the whole world knows it," he retorted. "It has been published."
"And it has been denied—retracted with an apology—a very abject apology. Mr. O'Connor did it. He was most kind."
Carleigh fell to musing again. Finally he said: "What was your first husband's name?"
"The same as always," she answered, smiling at his past tense. "He hasn't changed it. It was only I that changed mine and Rosamond's. His name is Ramsay—J. Sprague Ramsay."
"You divorced him before or after he went to prison?" Caryll asked.
"I divorced him when he went to prison," was her precise answer. "Then I took back my maiden name, called my daughter Rosamond instead of Jane—she had been christened Jane Rosamond—and deserted the world that knew us for Cape Town, where I met Mr. Veynol and married him."
"You are an ambitious woman, Sibyl," observed her son-in-law thoughtfully.
"Yes, I am," she admitted candidly. "And, you see, my ambition runs higher than a mere baronet. Let the girl divorce you, and I'll marry her to an earl."
"But I'm not going to let the girl divorce me." He had reached a decision. "I love her too much, and—" His eyes dwelt appraisingly for a moment on the woman beside him. In her dark, Spanish, almost gipsy way, she held a lure that for the susceptible Carleigh was well-nigh irresistible. "And," he added, "her mother is far too fascinating."
Mrs. Veynol laughed, but his flattery was not lost. "Kiss mother, son," she commanded and leaned toward him.