On his part Mr. Whyte was nothing if not diplomatic.  He affected not to notice the coldness of Madge’s reception of him.  On the contrary he began to pay her the most marked attentions, much to Brian’s disgust.  At length he asked her to be his wife, and notwithstanding her prompt refusal, spoke to her father on the subject.  Much to the astonishment of his daughter, Mr. Frettlby not only consented to Whyte paying his addresses to Madge, but gave that young lady to understand that he wished her to consider his proposals favourably.

In spite of all Madge could say, he refused to alter his decision, and Whyte, feeling himself safe, began to treat Brian with an insolence which was highly galling to Fitzgerald’s proud nature.  He had called on Whyte at his lodgings, and after a violent quarrel he had left the house vowing to kill him, should he marry Madge Frettlby.

The same night Fitzgerald had an interview with Mr. Frettlby.  He confessed that he loved Madge, and that his love was returned.  So, when Madge added her entreaties to Brian’s, Mr. Frettlby found himself unable to withstand the combined forces, and gave his consent to their engagement.

Whyte was absent in the country for the next few days after his stormy interview with Brian, and it was only on his return that he learnt that Madge was engaged to his rival.  He saw Mr. Frettlby, and having learnt from his own lips that such was the case, he left the house at once, and swore that he would never enter it again.  He little knew how prophetic were his words, for on that same night he met his death in the hansom cab.  He had passed out of the life of both the lovers, and they, glad that he troubled them no more, never suspected for a moment that the body of the unknown man found in Royston’s cab was that of Oliver Whyte.

About two weeks after Whyte’s disappearance Mr. Frettlby gave a dinner party in honour of his daughter’s birthday.  It was a delightful evening, and the wide French windows which led on to the verandah were open, letting in a gentle breeze from the ocean.  Outside there was a kind of screen of tropical plants, and through the tangle of the boughs the guests, seated at the table, could just see the waters of the bay glittering in the pale moonlight.  Brian was seated opposite to Madge, and every now and then he caught a glimpse of her bright face from behind the fruit and flowers, which stood in the centre of the table.  Mark Frettlby was at the head of the table, and appeared in very good spirits.  His stern features were somewhat relaxed, and he drank more wine than usual.