“May I read it?  It is a delicate matter, I know; but I will be secret—­secret as the grave.”

Mr. Hogarth assented, and Mr. Phillips read the letter through, and then returned it.

“She says she is your mother, and for this very reason I believe she is not, for if ever there was a woman possessed with the spirit of falsehood, she is that woman.  Mr. Hogarth, take no notice of her—­do not answer her letter—­send her no money; she is not so poor as she represents herself to be.  I am glad you asked me about her, and no one else.”

“Who is she? what is she?” was rising to Francis’ lips, but the sight of Mr. Phillips’s evident suffering checked his questions.  After a short pause, he said that Miss Melville had advised him to consult Mr. Phillips.

“Good God! did you say anything about this to Miss Melville?” said Mr. Phillips.

“Yes, I did!  I came to consult her on the letter, but it will go no further; let us call her back.  Where is she?” said Francis.

“In the drawing-room,” said Mr. Phillips, ringing the bell violently, “with Mrs. Phillips and Harriett, and Brandon, who has just come in.  Alice is out on some errand, I believe; so that Miss Melville cannot speak to her, and she surely will not speak on your private matters to my wife and sister.”

Jane was soon brought back to the breakfast-room, in which she had left her cousin with Mr. Phillips, and was surprised at the disturbed looks of both gentlemen.

“Mr. Hogarth has asked me about a person in Melbourne, whom I know to be an arrant cheat and liar.  Her assertions in this letter are, no doubt, false; it is in keeping with her character that they should be so.  He will take no further notice of the matter; and I hope and trust that her name will never pass your lips even to your sister, while under my roof, or even after you have left it.  Mr. Hogarth, you will do us the honour to dine with us to-morrow, at half past six?  Mrs. Phillips and I will be most happy to see you”—­and so saying Mr. Phillips hurriedly left the room, leaving Jane and Francis in the greatest bewilderment.

“I am not so sure that this Mrs. Peck is not my mother, for Mr. Phillips’s opinion of her is exactly the same as my father’s; but I think I will inquire no further.  If inquiry is to grieve and annoy the best friend you have ever had, I will ask no questions.  She may write again when she finds she gets no answer, and bring forward something more tangible than these vague allegations.  But is this Mr. Phillips a passionate or vindictive man?”

“Quite the contrary.  I never saw him agitated in this way before.  He is of a remarkably easy temper—­most indulgent to those around him.”

“He is kind both to you and to Elsie?”

“Very kind indeed, and very considerate.  If Mrs. Phillips were as much so, we would both be very comfortable indeed,” said Jane.

“Does she show you any temper?” asked Francis.