they conceived it, they had decided to let her find out for herself. She was such an odd girl in certain ways that mother and daughter felt that the real truth about Jack Dinneford might easily prove his overthrow. Thus with a chaste conscience Milly now lied royally.
Mary, alas! was so resentful of the coup of fortune and her friends, that for a moment she was tempted to fix a quarrel on Milly. But Milly's cunning was too much for her. She stuck to the simple statement that she thought she knew. There was no gainsaying it. And if blame there was in the matter it surely lay at the door of her own proud self.
Mary was still in the throes of an unwelcome discovery when Mrs. Wren came into the room. The appearance of that lady seemed to add fuel to the flame. Her felicitations, a little overwhelming in their exuberance, were in nowise damped by the girl's dejection. To Mrs. Wren such an attitude of mind was not merely unreasonable, it was unchristian. To call in question the highest gifts of Providence betrayed a kink in a charming character.
"Fancy, my dear—a duchess. You'll be next in rank to royalty."
It was so hard for the victim to smother the tempest within that for the moment she dare not trust herself to speak.
"You're very naughty," said Mrs. Wren. "Why, you ought to offer up a prayer. You've had success too easily, the road has been too smooth. If you'd had a smaller talent and you'd had an awful struggle to get there, you'd know better than to crab your luck."
A strong will now came to Mary's aid. And the calm
