rich bachelor in business, who was rich enough not to mind what people
said of him, and kept a lady there. She ran off from him, and he then
let it to some young man--a stranger, very eccentric, I hear--a Mr.--Mr.
Butler--and he, too, gave the cottage an unlawful attraction,--a most
beautiful girl, I have heard."

"Butler!" echoed Vargrave,--"Butler! Butler!" Lumley recollected that
such had been the real name of Mrs. Cameron.

Onslow looked hard at Vargrave.

"You recognize the name, my lord," said he in a whisper, as Hobbs had
turned to address himself to Mr. Howard. "I thought you very discreet
when I asked you, last night, if you remembered the early follies of your
friend." A suspicion at once flashed upon the quick mind of Vargrave:
Butler was a name on the mother's side in the family of Maltravers; the
gloom of Ernest when he first knew him, the boy's hints that the gloom
was connected with the affections, the extraordinary and single
accomplishment of Lady Vargrave in that art of which Maltravers was so
consummate a master, the similarity of name,--all taken in conjunction
with the meaning question of Mr. Onslow, were enough to suggest to
Vargrave that he might be on the verge of a family secret, the knowledge
of which could be turned to advantage. He took care not to confess his
ignorance, but artfully proceeded to draw out Mr. Onslow's
communications.

"Why, it is true," said he, "that Maltravers and I had no secrets. Ah,
we were wild fellows then! The name of Butler is in his family, eh?"

"It is. I see you know all."