Stubbs resumed his survey. At last he said, pressing his hand over his eyes,
"Swear to me, Mr. Stubbs!" said she. "But do you mean you think I'm like this Nelly Games?"
"'Game,' not 'Games,' Mrs. Witt," said George, smiling again.
"Of course she has," said Mrs. Pocklington, "or Mr. George would never have made the mistake." Mrs. Pocklington liked George, and wanted to let him down easily.
"That's all you can say?" asked Lord Tottlebury.
"It comes to nothing," said Lord Tottlebury, decisively.
"Nothing at all," said George. "Thank you, Stubbs. I'll join you and Mr. Jennings in a moment."
"Good-bye, Mr. Stubbs," said Neaera. "I'm sure I should have known you if I'd ever seen you before."
Stubbs withdrew, believing himself to have received a compliment.
"Of course this ends the matter, George," said Lord Tottlebury.
George looked at Neaera; and as he looked the conviction grew stronger on him that she was Nelly Game.
"Mr. George Neston is not convinced," said she, mockingly.
"It does not much matter whether I am convinced or not," said George. "There is no kind of evidence to prove the identity."
Gerald sprang up in indignation. "Do you mean that you won't retract?"
"You can state all the facts; I shall say nothing."
"Gerald," said Lord Tottlebury, "this is no use."
There was a feeling that George was behaving very badly. Everybody thought so, and said so; and all except Neaera either exhorted or besought him to confess himself the victim of an absurd mistake. As the matter had become public, nothing less could be accepted.
George wavered. "I will let you know to-morrow," he said. "Meanwhile let me return this document to Mrs. Witt." He took out Mrs. Horne's letter and laid it on the table. "I have ventured to take a copy," he said. "As the original is valuable, I thought I had better give it back."
"Thank you," said Neaera, and moved forward to take it.
Gerald hastened to fetch it for her. As he took it up, his eye fell on the writing, for George had laid it open on the table.
"Why, Neaera," said he, "it's in your handwriting!"
George started, and he thought he saw Neaera start just perceptibly.
"Of course," she said. "That's only a copy."
"My dear, you never told me so," said Lord Tottlebury; "and I have never seen your handwriting."