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and thought and then said sadly — “You’ve knocked it right out of my head, Corry. It was there just a moment ago.” Her face lighted and she turned to Philip. “I’ve said his name to you many a time, haven’t I, Philip?”
    “You have,” said Philip, stoutly, “many a time.”
    “And you’ve forgotten it too?” said Corrigan.
    “Yes. It has just slipped my memory.” He had been drinking a good deal. His fair face was flushed.
    “One glance at the portrait,” said Adeline, “even from a distance, and the name will come to me.” She turned back into the hall. The four men rose and followed her, the old Marquis carrying his glass in his hand. At about ten paces from the picture she halted and strained her eyes toward its lower corner. She had wonderful eyesight. “I could not possibly read the name from here, could I?” she asked.
    “No,” returned Corrigan. “And if you put your very nose against the picture you won’t see any signature, for either the artist did not consider it worth the trouble of signing or he was ashamed of his name.”
    She all but threw the candlestick at his head. “You’ve painted the name out yourself, Corry Court,” she cried, “you’ve painted it out so as to conceal its great worth! You knew that if some connoisseur saw it he would tell my father of the evil bargain you made!”
    Renny Court threw a suspicious look at his cousin Corrigan. He then took the candle from Adeline’s hand and, holding it close to the portrait, scrutinized the two lower corners. “It’s a queer little blob there is here,” he said.
    “Yes,” cried Adeline, “that’s just where the signature was! It was signed with a sweet little flourish. Oh, the name will come back to me in a moment.”
    “It was never signed,” said Corry Court. “And you know it was never signed. It’s a pretty picture and I’ve always liked it and, when your father offered it to me, I took it. I well knew it was all I was likely to get for the debt.”
    “Oh, Father, how could you?” said Adeline, tears shining in her eyes. “There’s nothing I want so much as this picture. And I was going to beg it from you as another wee wedding present for you acknowledged yourself, in a letter you wrote me to India, that it was not much you’d been able to give me in the way of a present.”
    “Not much!” cried Renny Court. “Why, I’m still in debt for your trousseau! If you want this picture so badly — you have the money your great-aunt left you — buy it!”
    “I’ll not part with it,” said Corry.
    Adeline turned to him with a charming smile.
    “You still love me, Corry dear, don’t you?”
    They exchanged a look. Corrigan flushed red. Adeline gazed at him with affectionate pity.
    “You may keep the picture, Corry dear,” she said. “I love to think of it here — reminding you and Biddy of me.”
    “I am not likely to forget you,” said Bridget grimly. “Wherever you are, you make trouble.”
    “Tut, tut, girls,” put in Lord Killiekeggan. “Don’t quarrel. Don’t spoil your pretty faces with frowns.”
    Bridget knew she was not pretty but his words pleased her. She arched her neck and looked challengingly at Adeline. “Well,” she said, “shall we go into the drawing-room?”
    Adeline caught her grandfather by the arm.
    “Don’t leave me alone with Bridget!” she implored. “I’m afraid of her.”
    “Behave yourself,” he said, and gave her hand a little slap, but he allowed himself to be led into the drawing-room.
    Corry was not loath to save his old port, of which quite enough had been already drunk. He was a little downcast at the prospect of the quarrel which he knew he would have later with his wife.
    Philip was in a state of bland serenity. He seated himself in a comfortable chair and accepted a pinch of snuff from the jewelled box which the old Marquis proffered him. Adeline spread out the glimmering flounces of her crinoline and eyed her grandfather