"Oh, I remember ... Thomas Essendean. No, it wasn't that. That was one they rejected. What was it he told you?"
"Kay Thorne, or perhaps Key—Key Thorne.... What?" For Challis, by this time bandageless and ready to receive visitors, but evidently glad to keep his head down on the pillow, had uttered an exclamation, without opening his eyes. "What's 'hullo,' Challis?" said the Rector. For a moment, he felt afraid that the patient's mind was wandering. But only for a moment. For when Challis spoke again, it was quite quietly and collectedly.
"Name of my first wife's first ... no!—I don't mean that. Name of a friend of mine eight—ten—years ago. Not Kaith; Keith Horne. He wasn't a shining light. He came to awful grief in the end. Penal servitude, I believe...."
"You mustn't tire yourself with talking," said the nurse. "We shall have her ladyship up directly. You know she's coming?"
"Oh no!—might my wife come? Her ladyship can come afterwards."
The Rector understood. He glanced at the nurse indicatively. "Mrs. Challis had better come first," he said. Then he said good-bye to Challis, and went his way. In the passage was Lady Arkroyd, followed by Marianne. "You'll find him immensely improved," said he. "I can't say he remembered me, but he will next time."
Then, as he shook hands with the scared and bewildered lady in black, he thought to himself, "Now, what a queer story I could tell you, if I didn't feel that the right course is to keep a lock on my tongue!"
For it had just come home to him that Marianne was not Challis's Deceased Wife's Sister at all, because "poor Kate" had never been his Deceased Wife. She was the late Mr. Keith Horne's! And as regarded the "living in sin business," evidently she was the real Simon Pure, and Marianne a mere pretender!