returned yesterday, to learn that your father was dead. Then I came down here this morning to—meet with this reception."

"Cyril! Cyril! Don't be hard on me."

"Are you not hard yourself?" he retorted. "How can I love a woman who doubts me? Besides, robbery was the motive for the commission of the crime. Am I likely to stab an old man, and then rob him?"

"No, I never believed, and yet——"

"And yet what?" he asked curtly.

"You—you—wanted a thousand pounds."

"Oh"—his lip curled—"and you believed that I robbed your father's safe to get it. Unfortunately, I understood, from your aunt's evidence at the inquest, that only one hundred pounds in gold were in the safe, so I must have committed a brutal murder needlessly."

"I never said that you murdered my father," cried Bella despairingly.

"You inferred as much," he retorted cuttingly; "also that I robbed——"

"No, no, no!" she cried vehemently, now thoroughly believing him to be completely innocent, and trying woman-like to recover her position. "But, Cyril, listen to me, and you will see that as things look I was justified——"

"Nothing can justify your believing me to be guilty of a double crime."

Bella bowed her proud head. "I can see that now," she said humbly.

"You should have seen it before," he replied harshly.

She raised her head, and looked at him indignantly, bringing into play the powerful weapon of sex. "You give me no opportunity of defending myself," she said, in the offended tone of a woman wronged.

"I ask your pardon, and give you the opportunity now," he replied coldly.

"I saw you enter the house," she repeated somewhat weakly.

"That is impossible," he rejoined briefly.

"Oh!" She clasped her hands together. "What is the use of saying that? It was not you, since I firmly believe what you tell me; all the same——"

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