drawing-room.

"I won't trouble you with my own impressions," Mrs. Presty went
on. "I will be careful only to mention what I have seen and
heard. If you refuse to believe me, I refer you to the guilty
persons themselves."

She had just got to the end of those introductory words when Mrs.
Linley returned, by way of the library, to fetch the forgotten
parasol.

Randal insisted on making Mrs. Presty express herself plainly.
"You speak of guilty persons," he said. "Am I to understand that
one of those guilty persons is my brother?"

Mrs. Linley advanced a step and took the parasol from the table.
Hearing what Randal said, she paused, wondering at the strange
allusion to her husband. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Presty answered
the question that had been addressed to her.

"Yes," she said to Randal; "I mean your brother, and your
brother's mistress--Sydney Westerfield."

Mrs. Linley laid the parasol back on the table, and approached
them.

She never once looked at her mother; her face, white and rigid,
was turned toward Randal. To him, and to him only, she spoke.

"What does my mother's horrible language mean?" she asked.