six months that her mother not only approved, but was delighted."
"That is the strange part, sir. On hearing of the death of her sister, Mrs. Octagon suddenly changed her mind, and told me that the marriage could not take place."
"Did she give any reason?"
"She declined to do so."
"The same woman," muttered Caranby, "always mysterious and unsatisfactory. You say her sister is dead?"
Cuthbert cast a look at the Globe, which lay on a small table near Caranby's elbow. "If you have read the papers, sir – " "Yes! I have read that Miss Loach has been murdered. You went down to Rexton to-day. I presume you heard something more than the details set forth by the press."
Cuthbert nodded. "It appears to be a mystery."
Caranby did not reply, but looked into the fire. "Poor Selina!" he said half to himself. "A sad end for such a charming woman."
"I should hardly apply that word to Miss Loach, sir. She did not appear to be a lady, and was by no means refined."
"She must have changed then. In her young days she and her sister were the handsomest women in London."
"I believe you were engaged to one of them," said Mallow politely.
"Yes," replied his uncle grimly. "But I escaped."
"Escaped?"
"A strange word is it not, but a suitable one."
Cuthbert did not know what to make of this speech. "Have I your permission to smoke?" he asked, taking out his case.
"Yes! Will you have some coffee?"
"Thank you. I had some before I came here. Will you – " he extended the case of cigarettes, which Caranby declined.
"Ring for Fletcher to get me my chibouque."
"It is in the corner. We will dispense with Fletcher with your permission." And Cuthbert brought the chibouque to his uncle's side. In another minute the old man was smoking as gravely as any Turk. This method of consuming tobacco was another eccentricity. For a few moments neither spoke. Then Caranby broke the silence.
"So you want me to help you to find out Mrs. Octagon's reason?"
"I do," said Mallow, rather surprised by Caranby's perspicuity.
"What makes you think I can explain?"
Cuthbert looked at his cigarette. "I asked you on the chance that you may be able to do so," he said gravely. "The fact is, to be frank, Mrs. Octagon appears to think you might have something to do with the crime."
Caranby did not seem surprised, but smoked imperturbably. "I don't quite understand."
The young man related how Mrs. Octagon had inquired if the Earl was back from the Continent, and her subsequent remark. "Of course I may be unduly suspicious," said he. "But it suggested – "
"Quite so," interrupted the old gentleman gravely. "You are quick at putting two and two together. Isabella Octagon hates me so much that she would gladly see me on the scaffold. I am not astonished that she suspects me."
"But what motive can she impute – "
Caranby laid aside the long coil he was holding and laughed quietly to himself. "Oh, she'll find a motive if it suits her. But what I cannot understand is, why she should accuse me now. She has had ample opportunity during the past twenty years, since the death of Miss Saul, for instance."
"She did not exactly accuse you."
"No, a woman like that would not. And then of course, her sister dying only last night affords her the opportunity of getting me into trouble. But I am afraid Mrs. Octagon will be disappointed of her revenge, long though she has waited."
"Revenge! remember, sir, she is the mother of Juliet."
"I sincerely hope Juliet does not take after her, then," said Lord Caranby, tartly. "To be perfectly plain with you, Cuthbert, I could never understand why Mrs. Octagon sanctioned your engagement with her daughter, considering you are my nephew."
"I don't understand," said Mallow, staring and uneasily.
Caranby did not answer immediately. He rose and walked painfully up and down the room leaning heavily on his cane. Mallow offered his arm but was impatiently waved aside. When the old man sat down again he turned a serious face to his nephew. "Do you love this girl?"
"With all my heart and soul."
"And she loves you?"
"Of course. We were made for one another."
"But Mrs. Octagon – "
"I don't like Mrs. Octagon – I never did," said Mallow, impetuously, "but I don't care two straws for her opposition. I shall marry Juliet in spite of this revenge she seems to be practising on you. Though why she should hope to vex you by meddling with my marriage, I cannot understand."
"I can put the matter in a nutshell," said Caranby, and quoted Congreve —
"'Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned
Nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned.'"
"Oh," said Mallow, dropping his cigarette, and a whole story was revealed to him in the quotation.
"A gentleman doesn't talk of these things," said Caranby abruptly, "and for years I have held my tongue. Still, as Mrs. Octagon does not hesitate to strike at me through you, and as your happiness is at stake, and the happiness of the girl you love, I shall tell you – so far as I can guess – why the woman behaves in this way."
"If you please, sir," and Cuthbert settled himself to listen.
"About twenty years ago," said Caranby, plunging headfirst into his subject, "Isabella and Selina Loach were well-known in society. They were the daughters of a country squire – Kent, I remember – and created a sensation with their beauty when they came to town. I fell in love with Selina, and Isabella – if you will pardon my vanity – fell in love with me. She hated her sister on my account. I would have married Selina, but her father, who was hard up, wished her to marry a wealthy American. Isabella, to part Selina from me, helped her father. What arguments they used I do not know, but Selina suddenly changed in her manner towards me. Out of pique – you may think this weak of me, Cuthbert, but I was a fool in those days – I became engaged to a girl who was a singer. Her name was Emilia Saul, and I believe she was of Jewish extraction. I liked her in a way, and she had a wonderful power over me. I proposed and was accepted."
"But if you had really loved Miss Loach – "
"I should have worn the willow. I told you I was foolish, and, moreover, Miss Saul fascinated me. Selina was cold, Emilia was charming, and I was weak. Therefore, I became engaged to Emilia, and Selina – as I heard, arranged to marry her wealthy American. I believe she was angry at my apparently forgetting her so soon. But she was in fault, not I."
Cuthbert looked at his smart shoes. "Had I loved Selina," said he slowly, "I should have remained true to her, and have married her in spite of the objection of her father – "
"And of her sister Isabella – Mrs. Octagon that is; don't forget that, Cuthbert. And I could scarcely run away with a girl who believed stories about me."
"What sort of stories?" asked Mallow, remembering certain rumors.
"The sort that one always does tell of an unmarried man," retorted Caranby. "Scandalous stories, which Isabella picked up and retailed to Selina. But I never pretended to be a saint, and had Selina really loved me she would have overlooked certain faults. I did love her, Cuthbert. I did all in my power to prove my love. For a time I was engaged to her, and when she expressed a wish that I should build her a house after her own design, I consented."
"The house at Rexton!" exclaimed the young man.
"Exactly. I got an architect to build it according to designs suggested by Selina. When our engagement was broken and I became – out of pique, remember – engaged to Miss Saul, I still went on building the house. Selina, I believe, was very angry. One week when I was out of London she went down with her sister to see the house, and there