LADY JANET'S curiosity was by this time thoroughly aroused.Summoned to explain who the nameless lady mentioned in his lettercould possibly be, Julian had looked at her adopted daughter.Asked next to explain what her adopted daughter had got to dowith it, he had declared that he could not answer while MissRoseberry was in the room.

What did he mean? Lady Janet determined to find out.

"I hate all mysteries," she said to Julian. "And as for secrets,I consider them to be one of the forms of ill-breeding. People inour rank of life ought to be above whispering in corners. If you_must_ have your mystery, I can offer you a corner in thelibrary. Come with me."

Julian followed his aunt very reluctantly. Whatever the mysterymight be, he was plainly embarrassed by being called upon toreveal it at a moment's notice. Lady Janet settled herself in herchair, prepared to question and cross-question her nephew, whenan obstacle appeared at the other end of the library, in theshape of a man-servant with a message. One of Lady Janet'sneighbors had called by appointment to take her to the meeting ofa certain committee which assembled that day. The servantannounced that the neighbor--an elderly lady--was then waiting inher carriage at the door.

Lady Janet's ready invention set the obstacle aside without amoment's delay. She directed the servant to show her visitor intothe drawing-room, and to say that she was unexpectedly engaged,but that Miss Roseberry would see the lady immediately. She thenturned to Julian, and said, with her most satirical emphasis oftone and manner: "Would it be an additional convenience if MissRoseberry was not only out of the room before you disclose yoursecret, but out of the house?"

Julian gravely answered: "It may possibly be quite as well ifMiss Roseberry is out of the house."

Lady Janet led the way back to the dining-room.

"My dear Grace, "she said, "you looked flushed and feverish whenI saw you asleep on the sofa a little while since. It will do youno harm to have a drive in the fresh air. Our friend has calledto take me to the committee meeting. I have sent to tell her thatI am engaged--and I shall be much obliged if you will go in myplace."

Mercy looked a little alarmed. "Does your ladyship mean thecommittee meeting of the Samaritan Convalescent Home? Themembers, as I understand it, are to decide to-day which of theplans for the new building they are to adopt. I cannot surelypresume to vote in your place?"

"You can vote, my dear child, just as well as I can," replied theold lady. "Architecture is one of the lost arts. You know nothingabout it; I know nothing about it; the architects themselves knownothing about it. One plan is, no doubt, just as bad as theother. Vote, as I should vote, with the majority. Or as poor dearDr. Johnson said, 'Shout with the loudest mob.' Away withyou--and don't keep the committee waiting."

Horace hastened to open the door for Mercy.

"How long shall you be away?" he whispered, confidentially. "Ihad a thousand things to say to you, and they have interruptedus."

"I shall be back in an hour."

"We shall have the room to ourselves by that time. Come here whenyou return. You will find me waiting for you."

Mercy pressed his hand significantly and went out. Lady Janetturned to Julian, who had thus far remained in the background,still, to all appearance, as unwilling as ever to enlighten hisaunt.

"Well?" she said. "What is tying your tongue now? Grace is out ofthe room; why won't you begin? Is Horace in the way?"

"Not in the least. I am only a little uneasy--"

"Uneasy about what?"

"I am afra id you have put that charming creature to someinconvenience in sending her away just at this time "

Horace looked up suddenly, with a flush on his face.

"When you say 'that charming creature,'" he asked, sharply, "Isuppose you mean Miss Roseberry?"

"Certainly," answered Julian. "Why not?"

Lady Janet interposed. "Gently, Julian," she said. "Grace hasonly been introduced to you hitherto in the character of myadopted daughter--"

"And it seems to be high time," Horace added, haughtily, "that Ishould present her next in the character of my engaged wife."

Julian looked at Horace as if he could hardly credit the evidenceof his own ears. "Your wife!" he exclaimed, with an irrepressibleoutburst of disappointment and surprise.

"Yes. My wife," returned Horace. "We are to be married in afortnight. May I ask," he added, with angry humility, "if youdisapprove of the marriage?"

Lady Janet interposed once more. "Nonsense, Horace," she said."Julian congratulates you, of course."

Julian coldly and absently echoed the words. "Oh, yes! Icongratulate you, of course."

Lady Janet returned to the main object of the interview.

"Now we thoroughly understand one another," she said, "let usspeak of a lady who has dropped out of the conversation for thelast minute or two. I mean, Julian, the mysterious lady of yourletter. We are alone, as you desired. Lift the veil, my reverendnephew, which hides her from mortal eyes! Blush, if you like--andcan. Is she the future Mrs. Julian Gray?"

"She is a perfect stranger to me," Julian answered, quietly.

"A perfect stranger! You wrote me word you were interested inher."

"I _am_ interested in her. And, what is more, you are interestedin her, too."

Lady Janet's fingers drummed impatiently on the table. "Have Inot warned you, Julian, that I hate mysteries? Will you, or willyou not, explain yourself?"

Before it was possible to answer, Horace rose from his chair."Perhaps I am in the way?" he said.

Julian signed to him to sit down again.

"I have already told Lady Janet that you are not in the way," heanswered. "I now tell you--as Miss Roseberry's futurehusband--that you, too, have an interest in hearing what I haveto say."

Horace resumed his seat with an air of suspicious surprise.Julian addressed himself to Lady Janet.

"You have often heard me speak," he began, "of my old friend andschool-fellow, John Cressingham?"

"Yes. The English consul at Mannheim?"

"The same. When I returned from the country I found among myother letters a long letter from the consul. I have brought itwith me, and I propose to read certain passages from it, whichtell a very strange story more plainly and more credibly than Ican tell it in my own words."

"Will it be very long?" inquired Lady Janet, looking with somealarm at the closely written sheets of paper which her nephewspread open before him.

Horace followed with a question on his side.

"You are sure I am interested in it?" he asked. "The consul atMannheim is a total stranger to me."

"I answer for it, "replied Julian, gravely, "neither my aunt'spatience nor yours, Horace, will be thrown away if you will favorme by listening attentively to what I am about to read."

With those words he began his first extract from the consul'sletter.

* * * "'My memory is a bad one for dates. But full three monthsmust have passed since information was sent to me of an Englishpatient, received at the hospital here, whose case I, as Englishconsul, might feel an interest in investigating.

"'I went the same day to the hospital, and was taken to thebedside.

"'The patient was a woman--young, and (when in health), I shouldthink, very pretty. When I first saw her she looked, to myuninstructed eye, like a dead woman. I noticed that her head hada bandage over it, and I asked what was the nature of the injurythat she had received. The answer informed me that the poorcreature had been present, nobody knew why or wherefore, at askirmish or night attack between the Germans and the French, andthat the injury to her head had been inflicted by a fragment of aGerman shell.'"

Horace--thus far leaning back carelessly in his chair--suddenlyraised himself and exclaimed, "Good heavens! can this be thewoman I saw laid out for dead in the French cottage?"

"It is impossible for me to say," replied Julian. "Listen to therest of it. The consul's letter may answer your question."

He went on with his reading:

"'The wounded woman had been reported dead, and had been left bythe French in their retreat, at the time when the German forcestook possession of the enemy's position. She was found on a bedin a cottage by the director of the German ambulance--"

"Ignatius Wetzel?" cried Horace.

"Ignatius Wetzel," repeated Julian, looking at the letter.

"It _is_ the same!" said Horace. "Lady Janet, we are reallyinterested in this. You remember my telling you how I first metwith Grace? And you have heard more about it since, no doubt,from Grace herself?"

"She has a horror of referring to that part of her journey home,"replied Lady Janet. "She mentioned her having been stopped on thefrontier, and her finding herself accidentally in the company ofanother Englishwoman, a perfect stranger to her. I naturallyasked questions on my side, and was shocked to hear that she hadseen the woman killed by a German shell almost close at her side.Neither she nor I have had any relish for returning to thesubject since. You were quite right, Julian, to avoid speaking ofit while she was in the room. I understand it all now. Grace, Isuppose, mentioned my name to her fellow-traveler. The woman is,no doubt, in want of assistance, and she applies to me throughyou. I will help her; but she must not come here until I haveprepared Grace for seeing her again, a living woman. For thepresent there is no reason why they should meet."

"I am not sure about that," said Julian, in low tones, withoutlooking up at his aunt.

"What do you mean? Is the mystery not at an end yet?"

"The mystery has not even begun yet. Let my friend the consulproceed."

Julian returned for the second time to his extract from theletter:

"'After a careful examination of the supposed corpse, the Germansurgeon arrived at the conclusion that a case of suspendedanimation had (in the hurry of the French retreat) been mistakenfor a case of death. Feeling a professional interest in thesubject, he decided on putting his opinion to the test. Heoperated on the patient with complete success. After performingthe operation he kept her for some days under his own care, andthen transferred her to the nearest hospital--the hospital atMannheim. He was obliged to return to his duties as army surgeon,and he left his patient in the condition in which I saw her,insensible on the bed. Neither he nor the hospital authoritiesknew anything whatever about the woman. No papers were found onher. All the doctors could do, when I asked them for informationwith a view to communicating with her friends, was to show me herlinen marked with her, name. I left the hospital after takingdown the name in my pocket-book. It was "Mercy Merrick."'"

Lady Janet produced _her_ pocket-book. "Let me take the name downtoo," she said. "I never heard it before, and I might otherwiseforget it. Go on, Julian."

Julian advanced to his second extract from the consul 's letter:

"'Under these circumstances, I could only wait to hear from thehospital when the patient was sufficiently recovered to be ableto speak to me. Some weeks passed without my receiving anycommunication from the doctors. On calling to make inquiries Iwas informed that fever had set in, and that the poor creature'scondition now alternated between exhaustion and delirium. In herdelirious moments the name of your aunt, Lady Janet Roy,frequently escaped her. Otherwise her wanderings were for themost part quite unintelligible to the people at her bedside. Ithought once or twice of writing to you, and of begging you tospeak to Lady Janet. But as the doctors informed me that thechances of life or death were at this time almost equallybalanced, I decided to wait until time shoulddetermine whether it was necessary to trouble you or not.'"

"You know best, Julian," said Lady Janet. "But I own I don'tquite see in what way I am interested in this part of the story."

"Just what I was going to say," added Horace. "It is very sad, nodoubt. But what have _we_ to do with it?"

"Let me read my third extract," Julian answered, "and you willsee."

He turned to the third extract, and read as follows:

"'At last I received a message from the hospital informing methat Mercy Merrick was out of danger, and that she was capable(though still very weak) of answering any questions which I mightthink it desirable to put to her. On reaching the hospital, I wasrequested, rather to my surprise, to pay my first visit to thehead physician in his private room. "I think it right," said thisgentleman, "to warn you, before you see the patient, to be verycareful how you speak to her, and not to irritate her by showingany surprise or expressing any doubts if she talks to you in anextravagant manner. We differ in opinion about her here. Some ofus (myself among the number) doubt whether the recovery of hermind has accompanied the recovery of her bodily powers. Withoutpronouncing her to be mad--she is perfectly gentle andharmless--we are nevertheless of opinion that she is sufferingunder a species of insane delusion. Bear in mind the cautionwhich I have given you--and now go and judge for yourself." Iobeyed, in some little perplexity and surprise. The sufferer,when I approached her bed, looked sadly weak and worn; but, sofar as I could judge, seemed to be in full possession of herself.Her tone and manner were unquestionably the tone and manner of alady. After briefly introducing myself, I assured her that Ishould be glad, both officially and personally, if I could be ofany assistance to her. In saying these trifling words I happenedto address her by the name I had seen marked on her clothes. Theinstant the words "Miss Merrick" passed my lips a wild,vindictive expression appeared in her eyes. She exclaimedangrily, "Don't call me by that hateful name! It's not my name.All the people here persecute me by calling me Mercy Merrick. Andwhen I am angry with them they show me the clothes. Say what Imay, they persist in believing they are my clothes. Don't you dothe same, if you want to be friends with me." Remembering whatthe physician had said to me, I made the necessary excuses andsucceeded in soothing her. Without reverting to the irritatingtopic of the name, I merely inquired what her plans were, andassured her that she might command my services if she requiredthem. "Why do you want to know what my plans are?" she asked,suspiciously. I reminded her in reply that I held the position ofEnglish consul, and that my object was, if possible, to be ofsome assistance to her. "You can be of the greatest assistance tome," she said, eagerly. "Find Mercy Merrick!" I saw thevindictive look come back into her eyes, and an angry flushrising on her white cheeks. Abstaining from showing any surprise,I asked her who Mercy Merrick was. "A vile woman, by her ownconfession," was the quick reply. "How am I to find her?" Iinquired next. "Look for a woman in a black dress, with the RedGeneva Cross on her shoulder; she is a nurse in the Frenchambulance." "What has she done?" "I have lost my papers; I havelost my own clothes; Mercy Merrick has taken them." "How do youknow that Mercy Merrick has taken them?" "Nobody else could havetaken them--that's how I know it. Do you believe me or not?" Sheas beginning to excite herself again; I assured her that I wouldat once send to make inquiries after Mercy Merrick. She turnedround contented on the pillow. "There's a good man!" she said."Come back and tell me when you have caught her." Such was myfirst interview with the English patient at the hospital atMannheim. It is needless to say that I doubted the existence ofthe absent person described as a nurse. However, it was possibleto make inquiries by applying to the surgeon, Ignatius Wetzel,whose whereabouts was known to his friends in Mannheim. I wroteto him, and received his answer in due time. After the nightattack of the Germans had made them masters of the Frenchposition, he had entered the cottage occupied by the Frenchambulance. He had found the wounded Frenchmen left behind, buthad seen no such person in attendance on them as the nurse in theblack dress with the red cross on her shoulder. The only livingwoman in the place was a young English lady, in a gray travelingcloak, who had been stopped on the frontier, and who wasforwarded on her way home by the war correspondent of an Englishjournal.'"

"That was Grace," said Lady Janet.

"And I was the war correspondent," added Horace.

"A few words more," said Julian, "and you will understand myobject in claiming your attention."

He returned to the letter for the last time, and concluded hisextracts from it as follows:

"'Instead of attending at the hospital myself, I communicated byletter the failure of my attempt to discover the missing nurse.For some little time afterward I heard no more of the sick woman,whom I shall still call Mercy Merrick. It was only yesterday thatI received another summons to visit the patient. She had by thistime sufficiently recovered to claim her discharge, and she hadannounced her intention of returning forthwith to England. Thehead physician, feeling a sense of responsibility, had sent forme. It was impossible to detain her on the ground that she wasnot fit to be trusted by herself at large, in consequence of thedifference of opinion among the doctors on the case. All thatcould be done was to give me due notice, and to leave the matterin my hands. On seeing her for the second time, I found hersullen and reserved. She openly attributed my inability to findthe nurse to want of zeal for her interests on my part. I had, onmy side, no authority whatever to detain her. I could onlyinquire whether she had money enough to pay her travelingexpenses. Her reply informed me that the chaplain of the hospitalhad mentioned her forlorn situation in the town, and that theEnglish residents had subscribed a small sum of money to enableher to return to her own country. Satisfied on this head, I askednext if she had friends to go to in England. "I have one friend,"she answered, "who is a host in herself--Lady Janet Roy." You mayimagine my surprise when I heard this. I found it quite uselessto make any further inquiries as to how she came to know youraunt, whether your aunt expected her, and so on. My questionsevidently offended her; they were received in sulky silence.Under these circumstances, well knowing that I can trustimplicitly to your humane sympathy for misfortune, I have decided(after careful reflection) to insure the poor creature's safetywhen she arrives in London by giving her a letter to you. Youwill hear what she says, and you will be better able to discoverthan I am whether she really has any claim on Lady Janet Roy. Onelast word of information, which it may be necessary to add, and Ishall close this inordinately long letter. At my first interviewwith her I abstained, as I have already told you, from irritatingher by any inquiries on the subject of her name. On this secondoccasion, however, I decided on putting the question.'"

As he read those last words, Julian became aware of a suddenmovement on the part of his aunt. Lady Janet had risen softlyfrom her chair and had passed behind him with the purpose ofreading the consul's letter for herself over her nephew'sshoulder. Julian detected the action just in time to frustrateLady Janet's intention by placing his hand over the last twolines of the letter.

"What do you do that for?" inquired his aunt, sharply.

"You are welcome, Lady Janet, to read the close of the letter foryourself," Julian replied. "But before you do so I am anxious toprepare you for a very great surprise. Compose yourself and letme read on slowly, with your eye on me, until I uncover the lasttwo words which close my friend's letter."

He read the end of the letter, as he h ad proposed, in theseterms:

"'I looked the woman straight in the face, and I said to her,"You have denied that the name marked on the clothes which youwore when you came here was your name. If you are not MercyMerrick, who are you?" She answered, instantly, "My name is--"'"

Julian removed his hand from the page. Lady Janet looked at thenext two words, and started back with a loud cry of astonishment,which brought Horace instantly to his feet.

"Tell me, one of you!" he cried. "What name did she give?"

Julian told him.

"GRACE ROSEBERRY."