"Victor, I have something to tell you," said Fenella.
"Yes?"
They were in the library. She was looking feverish; he was feeling ashamed, embarrassed and afraid.
"I have found out who was the friend of that poor girl."
He gazed at her without speaking.
"It will be a great shock to you—it was Alick Gell."
"No, no!"
"I'm sorry, dear. I knew you would be unable to believe it. But it's true—terribly true."
Mrs. Quayle, the evening before, had said very little. Nobody had called to see the girl while she stayed at her house, and nobody had come to take her away. She, herself, had seen her off by the train, and all the girl had told her was that she was going to a school at Derby-Haven.
"But that was enough for me," said Fenella. "This morning I went down to Derby-Haven and found there was only one school there. It is kept by two maiden ladies named Brown. Simple old things, very timid and old-fashioned. They were thrown into terrible commotion by my call, and having read the reports in the newspapers they were at first afraid to say anything. But after I had promised that they should not be mixed up in the matter in any way, I got them to speak. Mr. Alick Gell had brought the girl to their house. He had paid for her, and they had always looked upon him as her intended husband. So it's a certainty, you see—a shocking certainty."