thinking. When she ended, "Why should this death be a warning to Caranby?" he asked quickly. 

 "Good gracious, Cuthbert, don't get on my nerves. Why?—because I believe that Selina pushed Miss Saul off that plank and killed her. She was just the kind of violent girl who would do a thing like that. And Miss Saul's relatives have waited all these years to kill Selina, and now she's dead, they will kill Caranby because he did not marry the wretched girl." 

 Cuthbert stared.  "Mother, what are you talking about? Caranby told me that Miss Saul had only one brother, and that probably he was dead." 

 "Ah," said Mrs. Mallow, "he didn't tell you that Miss Saul's father was arrested for coining or passing false money, I forget which. I believe the brother was involved also, but I can't be sure. But I only know the girl was dead then, and the Saul family did not move in the matter, as the police knew too much about them. 

 "Good gracious!" shuddered the lady, "to think if she had lived, Caranby would have married into that family and have cheated you of the title." 

 "Are you sure of what you say, mother?" 

 "Of course I am. Look up any old file of newspapers and you'll read all about the matter. It's old history now. But I really won't talk any more of these things, Cuthbert. If I do, there will be no sleep for me to-night. Oh dear me, such nerves as I have." 

 "Did you ever see Miss Saul, mother?" 

 "I told you I did on the platform. She was a fine, large, big girl, with a hook nose and big black eyes. Rather like Selina and Isabella, for I'm sure they have Jewish blood in their veins. Miss Saul—if that was her real name—might have passed as a relative of those horrid Loach girls." 

 "Mrs. Octagon and her sister who died are certainly much alike." 

 "Of course they are, and if Miss Saul had lived they would have been a kind of triplets. I hate that style of beauty myself," said Mrs. Mallow, who was slim and fair, "so coarse. Everyone called those Loach girls pretty, but I never did myself. I never liked them, and I won't call on Mrs. Octagon—such a vulgar name—if you marry fifty of her wretched daughters, Cuthbert." 

 "Don't say that, mother. Juliet is an angel!" 

 "Then she can't be her mother's daughter," said Mrs. Mallow 

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