"I can't answer that question, as I don't quite follow your eminently selfish reasoning. But as it is I propose to take charge of your grown-up daughter. Then you can do what you like, so long as you don't marry Lady Mabel under false pretences."
"You will tell Lady Mabel?"
"Yes, and Cannington also. I should not be surprised if he horsewhipped you."
Mr. Monk winced. "I shall take my chance of that," he said bravely enough, and to do him the justice he was no coward so far as flesh and blood was concerned. "But suppose I get ahead of you and explain myself."
"In that case Lady Mabel will not marry you."
"It's probable, although, beyond the fact that I forgot to tell her of my change of name, I have done nothing wrong."
"Nothing wrong, when you masquerade----"
"I tell you I don't masquerade," he cried, with sudden heat, and springing to his feet; "my name has been legally changed and the money is mine by right. I really am, under an Act of Parliament, Mr. Wentworth Marr. I daresay it was vanity on my part to lessen my years by not confessing to having a daughter of Gertrude's age, but that is not a crime. But you are not going to blackmail me, Mr. Vance, so don't think it.'
"I don't propose to. I simply intend to tell Cannington and Lady Mabel the truth. Then they can deal with the situation."
Monk snapped his delicate fingers. "Tell them the truth by all means," he said derisively; "it's bound to come out sooner or later. Striver knows that I appear in London as Marr."