“If they aren’t spiled with paint,” wailed Widow Anne.  “He told my Sid as he wanted them for a model to wear while being painted.  Sid asked me, and I gave ’em to Sid, and Sid, he passed ’em along to your good gentleman.  There was a skirt, as good as new, and a body of the dress trimmest beautiful, and a tartan shawl as I got from my mother.  But no,” the old woman corrected herself, “it was a dark shawl with red spots and—­”

“Ask Mr. Hope, ask Mr. Hope,” cried Miss Kendal impatiently.  “I know nothing about the things,” and she tore her dress from Widow Anne’s detaining hand to hurry home.  Mrs. Bolton wailed aloud at this desertion, and took her way to Hope’s lodgings, where she declared her determination to remain until the artist restored her apparel.

Lucy for the moment thought little of this interview; but on reflection she thought it strange that Archie should borrow clothes from Mrs. Bolton through Sidney.  Not that there was anything strange in Archie’s procuring such garments, since he may have wanted them to clothe a model with.  But he could easily have got such things from his landlady, or, if from Widow Anne, could have borrowed them direct without appealing to Sidney.  Why, then, had the dead man acted as an intermediate party?  This question was hard to answer, yet Lucy greatly wished for a reply, since she suddenly remembered how a woman in a dark dress and with a dark shawl over her head had been seen by Eliza Flight, the housemaid of the Sailor’s Rest, talking to Bolton through the window.  Were the garments borrowed as a disguise, and did the person who had borrowed them desire that it should be supposed that Widow Anne was talking to her son?  There was a chill hand clutching Lucy’s heart as she went home, for the words of Mrs. Bolton seemed indirectly to implicate Hope in the mystery.  She determined to ask him about the matter straight out, when he came in that night to pay his usual visit.

At dinner the Professor was in excellent spirits, and actually became so human as to compliment Lucy on her housekeeping.  He also mentioned that he hoped Mrs. Jasher would cater as excellently.  Over coffee he informed his step-daughter that he had entirely won the widow’s heart by abasing himself at her feet and withdrawing the accusation.  They had arranged to be married in May, one or two weeks after Lucy became Mrs. Hope.  In the autumn they would start for Egypt, and would remain abroad for a year or more.

“In fact,” said the Professor, setting down his cup and preparing to take his departure, “everything is now settled excellently.  I marry Mrs. Jasher:  you, my dear, marry Hope, and—­”

“And Sir Frank marries Donna Inez,” finished Lucy quickly.

“That,” said Braddock stiffly, “entirely depends upon what De Gayangos says to this accusation of Hervey’s.”

“Sir Frank is innocent.”

“I hope so, and I believe so.  But he will have to prove his innocence.  I shall do my best, and I have sent round to Don Pedro to come here.  We can then talk it over.”