Hugh gazed thoughtfully into the fire.

"And you have come to tell me that, little one?" he remarked reflectively.

"Yes, I want to save you," was the earnest, naive reply.

"To save me," he echoed, with a smile. "Why, any one would think I was in danger of going by the express route across Styx."

"I mean," she faltered, a trifle embarra.s.sed,--"I mean that Mr. Egerton knows more of her past than you. I feel sure he does, for she came to see him the other day, and they talked very excitedly. I was not in the room, of course, but--"

"Valerie at the studio! Why did she go?" he inquired, astonished.

"I don't know, but I heard her say she would pay him another visit to-day and hear his answer, so I presume he has to decide upon some matter upon which she is pressing him."

"To-day! She may be there now!" he cried, jumping to his feet with sudden impulse.

"Yes, most probably. She came the other day about four o'clock."

"Then I will go and demand an explanation," said he briefly, and, opening the door, he shouted to Jacob to call a cab.

Rather unceremoniously he hurried on his fair companion's cloak, and, getting into his own overcoat, they both descended to the street.

In a few minutes they were driving in the direction of Fitzroy Square, leaving old Jacob standing on the kerb in astonishment at his master's sudden flight in company with the strange lady.

The pretty model's words had caused Hugh to become thoughtful and morose. His face wore a dark, resolute expression, and he scarcely uttered a word during the journey.

Dolly Vivian regarded him as her friend. She had accomplished her object and felt satisfied.

In Tottenham Court Road he stopped the cab, and she alighted, so that they should not both arrive at Fitzroy Square together.

A few minutes afterwards he got out and rang the bell.

Walking unceremoniously past Mrs. O'Shea, the aged housekeeper, he entered the studio unannounced.

Jack and Valerie were seated upon a low divan before the fire. He was holding her slim hand in his, and was uttering some low, pa.s.sionate words. As the door opened their _tete-a-tete_ was abruptly terminated, for the artist jumped to his feet, while she turned to face the intruder.

"I--I really must apologise for coming in without knocking," Hugh exclaimed roughly. "I didn't know you were engaged, old fellow," he added sarcastically.

"You! Hugh!" she cried, with a blush suffusing her cheeks.

"What, Valerie!" said Trethowen, laughing dryly. "I really didn't recognise you in the shadow. I'm sorry if I interrupted what must have been a pleasant conversation."

"Not at all, old boy," Egerton answered airily. "Mademoiselle Valerie merely called to have a chat."

Hugh's brow darkened.

"I think, as my affianced wife, Valerie owes me a full explanation of this mysterious visit," he said angrily.

"There's little to explain," she replied. "I merely called to consult Mr. Egerton, who is an old friend, with regard to a portrait I desire painted."

He endeavoured to preserve a calm disinterested demeanour, but the attempt was a sorry one. Prompted by feelings of jealousy, he gave vent to his wrath.

"Your position when I entered was peculiarly affectionate," he said hotly.

He glanced at her, and caught the agitated expression of her face as she stood erect before him. Her eyes had a perplexed look, with just a suspicion of tears in their brown depths.

"No affection exists between us, I a.s.sure you," she declared boldly.

"If you doubt me, ask Mr. Egerton. He and I are merely friends."

Turning to the artist, Hugh asked--

"What have you to say, Jack?"

"I decline to be cross-examined," was the abrupt reply.

"Speak, and satisfy him!" urged Valerie imploringly. "Tell him if there is any love between us." She frowned, and, unseen by Trethowen, darted a sharp, imperative glance at him.

He fully comprehended her meaning. Raising his head, he confronted his friend, saying--

"You need have no fear. Valerie and I have known one another for years, but only as acquaintances."

He uttered the words mechanically, in strained, harsh tones.

"I don't believe it," cried the other, his face crimson with anger.

"You are both playing me false, and I have detected you."

"You are mistaken," Valerie said defiantly.

"No; I a.s.sert it as the truth. The whole affair is so unsatisfactory that I will not believe it. Friends do not meet clandestinely in this manner. You are lovers!"

"It's a lie," cried Valerie emphatically.

"I repeat what I've said."

"Then, if you accuse me of duplicity, Mr. Trethowen, I will bid you adieu," she exclaimed severely, at the same time offering her hand.

He took it, and was mollified instantly.

Bending over it, he murmured--

"Farewell, mademoiselle, until--until you can prove that I was mistaken.

We shall not meet till then." For a moment she gazed steadily at the artist, but he did not stir. He stood with his arms folded, his face impa.s.sive.

Slowly she turned, and with a stiff bow swept haughtily out of the studio.

"Now," commenced Hugh, when the door had closed, "what explanation have you to give of this strange conduct, pray?"

"None."