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CHAPTER XVII

MRS. MILDMAY gazed at her steadily. At that moment she knew quite well why Marryat had come to visit her. She had come to tear that secret from her breast which the widow guarded so jealously.

"But she never shall," thought the trembling woman. "If I ever was a coward, I will be brave now for Kate's sake--for the sake of my poor, rash, wicked, but beloved child."

"I see you are puzzled by the likeness," she said; "but let me show you this." As she spoke she took a key from her pocket, and, opening her secretaire, took out a photograph case. It was an old-fashioned morocco case, opening with a spring. When it opened it revealed the portraits of two girls--two girls side by side--one dressed richly and fashionably, the other also with a certain style, but in poor and shabby clothes.

"There," said Mrs. Mildmay, pointing to the likeness of the girl in the shabby frock, "that is my daughter, Kate Mildmay; and there," she added, "is Miss Kate Bouverie, who married Mr. Ralph Henley."

"Remarkable," said Marryat. She took the photograph case in her hand and held it near her eyes, glancing from one face to the other with a more and more puzzled expression.

"A speaking likeness of my young lady," she said, looking hard at the portrait of the real Kate Bouverie | | 164 as she spoke. "It is strange how remarkably alike the two girls were."

"They might have been the very same," answered the mother; "you would scarcely know one from the other."

"Well, thank you for showing them to me, madam. I am much obliged."

Mrs. Mildmay shut up the case and returned it to her desk.

"Now you must tell me all about Mrs. Henley," she said. "Sit down, won't you? in this comfortable chair. I want much to hear of her; no one was ever so good to my darling Kate as she was."

"By the way," said Marryat, fixing her sharp, suspicious eyes on the face of the widow, "I hope you won't think me impertinent, but I will own that I am strangely curious. Mrs. Henley asked me to be sure and go to see the grave of your daughter."

Mrs. Mildmay suppressed a start.

"I had nothing much to do this afternoon, so I went. The inscription on the tomb was very affecting, very affecting indeed; but why did you not put her full name--Kate Mildmay? It seems queer, very queer, only to speak of her as Kate. It don't seem a proper record."

Mrs. Mildmay now put on a little haughty air, which sat very well upon her.

"Does it matter to you what my reasons are?" she said. "My dear child can never be forgotten by me. I like the inscription best as it is. Ah! here comes tea. Let me pour you out a cup."

"She does it well," thought Marryat; "but she is hiding something, as sure as my name is Jeannette Marryat."

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Miss Marryat, the lady's-maid, and Mrs. Mildmay, the proprietress of the Mildmay Pension, had tea together, and during that meal, probe as she would, use her ingenuity with all the tact and cleverness of which she was capable, Marryat could get no further clue to Kate Henley's secret. She finally left the widow, and when she had done so Mrs. Mildmay locked the door, then she fell on her knees and covered her face with her trembling hands.

"What an escape my child has had!" she cried. "But I don't think I let anything out. That maid is a terrible creature! I wish I could warn Kate; that woman will worm her secret out of her before long unless she is very careful. But I dare not write to her. What is to be done?"

Two days later Marryat left Mentone and returned to Falmouth. She arrived at the Victoria Hotel just as Kate was dressing for dinner. When Mrs. Henley saw her she gave a cry of alarm.

"Why, Marryat," she said, "how you startled me! Who ever expected to see you back so soon?"

"I wanted to get back to you, madam. My mother took a turn for the better, and I didn't see any sense in putting myself to unnecessary hotel expenses any longer. I have very pleasant news for you, madam, about Mrs. Mildmay. I took rooms at her nice pension."

"Oh! do tell me," said Kate in an eager voice.

"Certainly, Mrs. Henley. I will tell you all about Mrs. Mildmay when I am brushing your hair this evening. Now let me help you to dress for dinner."

"I don't really want dinner. I would much rather hear about Mrs. Mildmay."

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"Oh! but, madam, you really are in good health, and your very affectionate husband and the young ladies will be so disappointed if you do not dine with them. Are the young ladies still here, madam?"

"Yes, they are. Well, help me into my evening dress."