You knew him by the name of Derrick Dene." Miriam did not start; but the pallor of her face increased, and her tear-swollen eyes fixed themselves with a kind of wan wonder and shame on Celia.
"Derrick Dene!" she echoed, faintly.
"Yes," murmured Celia; and, as briefly and gently as she could, she told Miriam of Derrick's recent experiences.

Miriam's hands went up to her face; but they dropped into her lap again and she looked before her and said, in a stricken voice, "I see you know everything.

Yes, it was Heyton, my husband, who forged the cheque; I know it now: he is capable of--anything." She shuddered.
"It was to save me from the shame and unhappiness of being a felon's wife that Derrick sacrificed himself.

Yes; it was just what he would do." She glanced at Celia.

"You know, of course, that I--I once cared for him; that we were to be married; I jilted him for a title, for money----" "Don't say any more," pleaded Celia; but Miriam went on ruthlessly.
"I was a weak fool; I might have known that no good would come of such treachery--oh, yes, I knew in my heart; I knew that Derrick was worth a hundred of _him_.