Mr. Delamayn, resolutely waiting his opportunity to speak, seized it
once more--and held it this time.

"I beg your pardon," he said. "There is some misapprehension here, for
which I am in no way responsible. I am _not_ that lady's husband."

It was Lady Jane's turn to be astonished. She looked at the lawyer.
Useless! Mr. Delamayn had set himself right--Mr. Delamayn declined to
interfere further. He silently took a chair at the other end of the
room. Lady Jane addressed Mr. Vanborough.

"Whatever the mistake may be," she said, "you are responsible for it.
You certainly told me this lady was your friend's wife."

"What!!!" cried Mrs. Vanborough--loudly, sternly, incredulously.

The inbred pride of the great lady began to appear behind the thin outer
veil of politeness that covered it.

"I will speak louder if you wish it," she said. "Mr. Vanborough told me
you were that gentleman's wife."

Mr. Vanborough whispered fiercely to his wife through his clenched
teeth.

"The whole thing is a mistake. Go into the garden again!"

Mrs. Vanborough's indignation was suspended for the moment in dread, as
she saw the passion and the terror struggling in her husband's face.