'Cecil's friend could never be so base!' urged Mary again. 'Oh, let us cling to the hope that it is something that may yet be explained away.'
'It—what?' asked Annabelle impetuously.
'This apparent mystery.'
But less gentle than Mary, who was apt to take refuge in tears, Annabelle said with outward calmness, though she felt only despair and exasperation:
'I fear that he is totally without principle—false as the fell serpent that beguiled Eve!'
And when night came she was thankful to lay her weary head on the pillow, though she did so, not to sleep, but to long that she was again at home beside her mother, and to agonise herself with doubts and fears as to the issue of this affair, to which she was resolved there should be a climax, either verbally or by letter, on the morrow, when Fotheringhame was expected to luncheon.
But on the morrow matters took a new and more startling turn, ere time for luncheon came.
Mary, who had been idling over the morning papers, suddenly drew Annabelle aside, and said:
'Look at this advertisement. Can it be that the creature takes the initial of his second name—if not his name altogether?'
Annabelle read what the speaker's slender fingers indicated, and it ran thus: