Miss Marjory was delighted to think that she should at last be brought face to face with the redoubtable Belassis. She knew all about the theory of the destroyed will, and Mr. Debenham’s impoverished fortunes, and was not at all prepared to spare him. Being a woman of a business-like turn, and one who knew a good deal more than Tor did of the ways of the world, she understood better than he had done, how Belassis had managed to possess himself of Mr. Debenham’s money, and enrich himself at his client’s expense; and she was inclined to think that a lawsuit against him should be set on foot even now.

Tor, however, did not see where the needful evidence was to come from, as Belassis had had the handling of all the papers; moreover, that was a question for the real Phil to consider, not for him to settle; and in this verdict Miss Marjory could not but agree.

‘It’s a sad pity you are not the real master here,’ she said. ‘I believe you are twice the man that Phil of yours will turn out to be. It will be too bad if that old scoundrel gets off scot-free. However, I think I can touch him up a little. I shall certainly lay myself out to be agreeable to him. Mind you put me opposite to him at table. I think I can make the time pass very pleasantly for him.’

Tor was mean enough to feel a sort of amused compassion for Miss Marjory’s prospective victim.

‘You will not let out about the first wife, will you, Miss Marjory?’ he said. ‘I know he deserves everything you can give him; but there will be the wife and family at table, and a dinner-party isn’t quite——’

‘Don’t be so dense, Philip Debenham. I hope I know what to say and what to leave unsaid in a mixed company,’ interrupted Miss Marjory sharply. ‘Do you suppose I want everyone to be covered with confusion? You are just like a man; you think nothing can be said unless it is regularly set down in black and white. Trust me. I will say nothing which anybody else could take exception to. But I’ll just roast Belassis.’

‘I believe you will,’ returned Tor. ‘Well, he’s too big a scoundrel to waste pity on. I hand him over to your tender mercies.’

Miss Marjory smiled.

‘You and I can enjoy it—and he. Nobody else will understand.’ Then, after a pause, she added: ‘Is it only a family party? or are any strangers coming?’

‘I asked the Merediths, and their guest. I saw the old boy expected to be included in a family gathering. He accepted at once, but now his doctor has forbidden him to come, and Roma remains with him; but that Italian fellow holds to his engagement. Odd, isn’t it?—sticking himself into a party where he must know he is not wanted.’