Ken's Blogspot: Condemned By Wealth

By Ken Everett

Chapter One.

"Yes, James; This is my last eulogy and my last confession.”

"Oh, Papa!" with a burst of sobs.

"Shut up, Kitty, and don't make me so unhappy. Dying is only going to sleep when a man like me is tired from the cares of the world, from making money, from struggling to survive and from disappointment. I know as well as old Jermingham it's almost over. I'm sorry to leave you darling, but I'm exhausted and your dear mother has been waiting for almost a year."

"Father, dearest father!" and two white arms wrapped themselves around the dying man's neck, while their owner sank to her knees beside the bed.

"I'd stay for you, Kitty, but fate says no, and I'm so tired, darling, it'll be like diving into peace and quiet. She was always an angel, Kitty, and she must be now; I feel like I'll have to see her again afterwards. Because I don't think I've been that bad of a person, Will."

"Best guy, Bob, ever," said the stocky, voluptuous, country-looking gentleman, seated beside the large, heavily draped four-poster bed.

"Thank you James. I don't want to play the Pharisee, but I've tried to be an honest man and a good father."

"Your name comes first in town and your charities..."

"Take care! I've made a lot of money with the bank and given some away, and I wish it had done more good. Well, my shares in the bank are one hundred and fifty thousand; Those are kitties. In India, stocks and consoles are i'm Worth about ten thousand pounds.

"Pray, pray, don't talk anymore, papa, dear."

"Must, Kitty, while I can. The money, Will, is yours for life, and after death it's your boy's, Claude. He doesn't deserve it, but maybe one day he'll be a better boy. Then there is the rent for this house, my furniture, books, plates, pictures and the money in the private account. You will sell and realize everything; Kitty doesn't want a big gloomy house in Bedford Square - with the proceeds you will pay for the servants' legacies, and the expenses will be plentiful; and the rest shall be given to your wife to use. That's all. I have appointed you my sole executor, and I thought it better to have you asked to tell you than to wait for the will to be read. Give me some of that in some water, Kitty."

His head was raised tenderly, he drank and sank back with a sigh.

"Thank you darling. Well, Will, I might have joined John Graham as executor, but I thought it better to give you full control, as you are a quiet squire living your simple, honest life as a gentleman farmer , while he's an avid speculator man."

James Walton, the banker's brother, heaved something like a sigh, murmured a few words about trying to do his duty, and listened as the dying man continued:

"I shouldn't have been happy. You two may have disagreed on a marital issue because there is no other matter over which you need to be in control. And I told myself that Will wouldn't try to play the bad uncle over my baby. So you are the sole executor and have very little to do as I have taken care of everything I believe. Her money will stay in the old bank I helped set up, and the dividends will give her a handsome income. You have to be careful not to get her kidnapped by a credible villain for her money. If she does marry..."

"Oh, papa, darling, don't, don't! You're breaking my heart. I'll never get married,” the girl sobbed as she laid her sweet young face on the pillow next to the thin, withered face.

"Yes you will, my pet. I wish when the right man comes along who loves you for yourself. Girls like you are too rare to be wasted. But your uncle will take care of you and take care of it. Do you hear Will?

"Yes, I will do my duty to her."

"I believe you."

"But, dear papa, don't talk any more. The doctor said you need to be kept still.”

"I must close my affairs, my darling, and think of your future. I'm fed up with the men who are after the rich banker's daughter. If my will is proven, the drones and wasps will swarm around you for the money. There's nobody there at all, is there?” he said with an inquiring look.

"Oh no, dad, I never thought of that."

"I know, sweetheart. I've always been your sweetheart and we lived for each other and I hate to leave you dear."

"Oh, father, dearest father, don't talk about leaving me," she sobbed.

He smiled sadly and his weak hand played with her curls.

"God controls my property," he said. "But I have to talk while I can. Listen. Those are almost my last words, Will.”

His brother winced and leaned forward to hear his half-whispered words, and he wiped the dew from his suntanned brow and shivered a little, for the chilly nearness of death troubled the same, hearty-looking man and gave him a pang worried look on his red face.

"When it's all over, Will, get her to Northwood as soon as possible and be a father to her. Her aunt always loved her and she will be happy there. Give me your hand, Will."

The thin, white, trembling hand was placed in the thick, heavy palm and rested there for a few minutes before Robert Walton spoke again.

"Everything is laid out clearly, Will. The money in the bank is hers - one hundred and fifty thousand pounds, strictly tied. I made sure of that. There you will fulfill your duty to her and make sure everything goes well.”

"Yes."

“I am content, brother; I swear not Kate, my child, your uncle will take my place. I leave you in his hands.” Then he whispered in a low voice heard only by her, who clung to him and wept softly, “And in yours, O God.”

The next morning all the blinds were down on 204 Bedford Square, which looked the gloomiest in the wet mist, with the withered leaves falling rapidly from the great plane trees; and the iron shutters of the bank at Lothbury were half drawn, for the old leather-covered chair in the manager's room was empty, awaiting a new occupant - the Chairman of the Great British and Bengali Joint Stock Bank was dead.

"As good and loyal as a man has never been before," said the general manager and shook his gray head. "And we all lost a friend. I wonder who will marry Miss Kate!'

Chapter Two.

"Morning, Doctor. I hardly expected to find you at home. I thought you were on your round.”

The speaker was mounted on a rather unsteady pillar, which he now held at the gate of the pretty cottage in one of the Northwood lanes; and as he spoke he sprang down and stuck his rein through the ring on the post near the brass plate on which were written the words, 'Pierce Lewis, MD, Surgeon, etc.', but he did not look at the ring, and his eyes threw a furtive one View from one window to the other.

He was no groom, for his horseshoe pin was set with diamonds, and many gold charms hung from his watch chain, but his coat, hat, drab trousers and leggings were of the highest equine quality, and even more of a close approximation that anyone would have expected can, that she perceives stable smell. As it was, the smell he exhaled was that of Jockey Club, emanating from a white handkerchief dotted with fox heads, game grain, and horns, and impregnated with scent.

"My rounds are not very regular, Mr. Walton," said the gentleman addressed, glancing sharply at the common speaker, whose ears stuck out well above his close-cropped hair. "You're awfully healthy down here," and he held open the garden gate and straightened up, a rather handsome, dark man of thirty, with keen eyes and gentlemanly looks, slightly pale as from study, but wiry and wiry strong as a Athlete. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah. Bit off my corn on the cob. Headache, black spots around my eyes and stuff like that. Thought I'd see the vet."

"Will you step in?"

"Ah? Yes. Thanks."

The doctor led the way into his flower-bedecked room, which was half study, half consultation-room, and in which several other small ornaments suggested the near presence of a woman; and the would-be patient coughed unnecessarily and kept tapping his leg with the hunting-whip he was carrying as he followed, and the door was closed and a chair set up for him.

"Ah? Chair? "Thank you," said the visitor, grabbing his back, swinging him around, throwing one leg over like it was a saddle, crossing his arms and resting his chin on it - all while glaring at the man in front of him rather enviously. "It's not busy, and you mustn't force me to get stuck. I have a guy with me and we hunt the pheasants. I say I'll send you braces."

"They are very good," said the doctor, smiling somewhat scornfully, "but as far as I know, they haven't been shot yet?"

"Ah? Oh no; but don't be afraid of it. I can lick our goalie; pretty sure with a gun. Do you want to see my tongue and feel my pulse?"

"Well, no," the doctor said with a slight shrug. "I can pretty much say that."

"How?"

"In appearance."

"Ah? Doesn't look bad, does it?"

"Rather."

"Did something bad happen?" the young man said nervously.

"Yes; bad gallbladder if you're not careful. You've drunk too much beer and smoked too many strong cigars."

"Not a bad guess," the young man said, grinning. “The last crates are enough to rip your head off. Try one."

"Thank you," was the reply, and a black-looking cigar was taken from the proffered case.

"Remember, I told you you were a roofer."

"I can smoke a strong cigar," said the doctor calmly.

"You can? Well I can't. Well then, mix something up; I want to get away."

“There is no need to give you any medication. Give up beer and tobacco for a few days and you'll be fine.

"But won't you give me any medication?"

"Not a drop."

"I'm glad about it. But I'm saying the idiots down here won't care if you don't give them anything."

"I already found that out. Here, sir, I have given you the best advice I can."

"Thanks. When shall I come back?"

"Not until you're really sick. Then not," said the doctor, smiling slightly as he stood up, "because I think I should be sent to you."

"That's all?"

"Yes, that's all."

"Well, send your bill to the governor," the young man said, grinning again. “He pays for everything that belongs to me. Beautiful morning for December, isn't it? Christmas is coming soon.”

"Yes, soon we will have Christmas," said the doctor and led his visitor to the door.

"Looks more like October, doesn't it?"

"Yes, much more like October."

"Hold on, beauty! Ah, quiet, yes!” yelled the young man as he mounted the restless piston. "She's a little fresh. Wants her to be deprived of some of the dance. Morning. – Sour beggar, no wonder he can't manage,” the patient murmured. “Take this and that. These games come when I level up! How do you like that? Wanted to get rid of me."

The spurs were again given in a brutal manner, and after falling violently the little mare broke free as fast as she could, while the doctor watched until his patient turned the corner, and then continued his pace up and down the garden - a walk interrupted by the visit.

"Cheeky pup!" he murmured, frowning. "A lousy excuse."

"Pierce, darling, where are you?" called a pleasant voice, and a zesty little figure appeared at the door. "Oh, there you are. Shall I want a hat? Oh no, it's quite mild." The owner of the voice rushed out like a ray of sunshine on the dull gray morning and grabbed the Doctor's arm to keep up with him, after gazing at his stern face while her own looked cheerful and dimpled.

"What is it, Jenny?" he said.

"What's the matter, sir? Well, I want fresh air as much as you do; but don't go on like this. How can I keep up? Your legs are so long.”

"That's better," he said, trying to get used to the small body at his side.

"Rather. So you had a patient," she said.

"Yes, I had a patient, sis," he replied, looking down at her. and a faint color dawned in her creamy cheeks.

"And you're always grumbling, sir! I believe this is the beginning of a change. Who was the patient?”

The Doctor's hand twitched and he frowned, but he said very calmly, "That young boy from the Manor."

"Mr. Claude Walton?" said the girl innocently; "Oh, I'm glad. Starting with the rich people in the Manor. Now everyone will come.”

"No honey; not everyone will come, and the sooner we pack up and head back to town the better."

"What, sell the practice?"

"Sell the practice," he cried contemptuously. "Sell the furniture, sister. One man - a fool, I mean - was enough to be deceived about this matter. Practice! The wretched scoundrel! May the money he cheated me out of do him a lot of good. No, but we have to go.”

"Don't do it, Pierce," the girl said, looking up at him wistfully.

"Why?" he said angrily.

"Because it was good for me to be down here and I like the place so much."

"Any place would be better than this miserable hole in Westminster, where you grow paler by the day, but I should have been more factual. However, it hasn't done you any good; And if you like the place, that's one more reason why we should go there,” he shouted angrily.

"Oh, Pierce, my dear, what a bear you are this morning. Be patient, I know the patients will come."

"Bah! Since we've been here nobody has visited us except the craftsmen to get our customers.”

"But we've only been here six months, dear."

"It's going to be the same when we're here for six years and I'm wasting time. I will leave as soon as possible. Start the new year fresh in the city.”

"Pierce, oh, don't go so fast. How can I keep up with you?”

"I'm sorry, what."

"That's better. But, Pierce, dear," she said with a mischievous look; "Don't talk like that. You wouldn't have the heart to do it."

"Indeed! But I will."

"I know better, love."

"What do you think?"

"You couldn't go away now. Oh, Pierce, my love, she's cute! I could love her like that. There's something so beautiful and pathetic about her face as she sits there in the church. I often felt like tears welled up in my eyes and like I could walk down the little aisle and kiss her and call her sister.”

He turned abruptly and grabbed her arm, his eyes blazing with outrage.

"Jenny," he called, "are you crazy?"

"No, just pain," she said, lip trembling. "You hurt me. You are so strong."

"I – I didn't mean it," he said, releasing her.

"But it still hurts me, my dear, to see you like this. Oh, Pierce, darling,” she whispered as she clung to his arm and snuggled into him; "Don't try to hide it from me. A woman always knows. I saw it the moment she came down and we noticed her for the first time and when she came into the church she looked like a dear suffering saint. My heart went out to her instantly, and it was even more so when I saw the effect it was having on you. Pierce, darling, do you really love me?"

"You know," he said hoarsely.

"Then be frank with me. What would be better?"

He was silent for a few moments, then answered the pretty, wistful eyes that looked so searchingly into his.

"Yes," he said. “I'll be frank with you, sister, because you mean well; but you talk like the pretty kid you always were to me. Has it ever occurred to you that I have never spoken to this lady and that she is a rich heiress and that I am a poor doomed doctor?”

"What!" cried the girl proudly. "If she were a princess, she would not be too great for my brave, noble brother."

"Hah!" he cried with a derisive laugh; "Your brave, noble brother! Well, go ahead and still think of me like that, little one. It is very pleasant and harms no one. I hope I'm too sane to let my little flatterer spoil me. Just keep your love for me a while longer,” he said meaningfully. "Let's keep love out of the question until we can make a living and have something left over, instead of having no income at all, just what comes out of consoles."

"But Pierce-"

"That's enough. You are a dear little goose. We must want the queen's crown from the tower because it's pretty."

"Now you're talking nonsense, Pierce," she said firmly, gripping his arm tightly between her small hands. "You can't deny it, sir. You fell in love with her from the start.”

"Jenny, my child," he said softly. "I promised our father that I would be an honorable man and a gentleman."

"And you would have been, too, without promising."

"Hopefully. Then listen to me now; never talk to me that way again."

"I will," she cried, blushing. "Answer me that; Would it be an honorable man to let that sweet angel of a girl marry Claude Walton?”

"What!" He cried, winced, and looked intently at his sister. "Your own cousin? Absurd."

"I've heard it's meant to be."

"Nonsense!"

“People say so, and where there's smoke there's fire. Cousins ??get married and I don't think they let the family lose such a fortune.

"You're rich enough to laugh about it."

“You are not rich; You are poor because the squire is in trouble.

"Little village gossip. bullshit girl Again, none of that. You are wrong my dear. You mean well, but there's an ugly saying about good intentions that I won't repeat. Now listen to me Coming down to Northwood was a terrible mistake, and when people make mistakes, the sooner they get back on track, the better. I have decided to return to London and your words this morning hastened it. The sooner we get started, the better.”

"No, Pierce," the girl said firmly. "Not to make you unhappy. You shall not take a step that you will regret until the last day of your life, my dear. We have to stay.”

"We have to go. I have no reason to stay here. Neither do you," he added meaningfully.

"Pierce!" she cried and blushed.

“Beg your pardon, sir; Mr. Lewis, sir."

They had been too engrossed in their conversation to notice that a dog cart was approaching, or that the groom driving it had stopped when he saw them and was now talking to them over the hedge.

"Yes, what is it?" said Lewis sharply.

"Would you come straight to the Manor, sir? Master is out and wife is in trouble. Our young lady, sir, Miss Walton, was unwell - passed out and nervous. You should come at once.”

Jenny let out a low, low, long-drawn-out "Oh!" and Pierce Lewis, forgetting everything he had said, rushed into the house, got his hat, and rushed out again to get into the dog cart with the driver.

"Poor dear old brother!" Jenny said softly as she watched the dog cart drive away, eyes half blinded from the welling of tears. "I don't think he's going into town. Oh how strange things happen. I wish I could have gone too.”

chapter three.

John Graham stood with his back to the fire in his well furnished office on Bedford Row, tall and erect as a bodyguard but slightly more prominent on what the fashionable tailor called his client's chest. He was fifty but looked forty with artificial help. Meticulously dressed, handsome, and with a smile that won customers' trust, although his regular white teeth were false and the high-browed look that some people would have labeled baldness was so beautifully ivory white and shiny that it helped around to make him look like he was - a carefully groomed man of the world.

The clean, varnished boxes in the room, all with the names of the customers, the many papers on the table, the wastebasket on the noble Turkish carpet, stuffed with white, fresh letters and envelopes, everything told about the business; and the handsome Moroccan-covered armchairs suggested that wealthy clients were arriving there for lengthy consultations, such as those noted on a bill.

John Graham was a family solicitor and he looked like one; but he would have made a great fortune as a doctor, for his presence and his worldly demeanor would have benefited everyone.

One had glanced at the morning papers and thrown them aside, and while the gentleman in question was bathing himself in the warm glow of the fire, he carefully scraped and polished his manicured nails, pausing from time to time to blow off tiny scraps of dust; and finally he took two silent steps sideways and touched the button of an electric bell.

A gaunt-looking, most respectable man answered the summons and waited for his boss to speak, which was only after the nail of the little finger of the right hand, which was quite difficult to reach, had been polished when John Graham, without the Look up, appeared spoken.

"Mr Harry has arrived?"

"No sir."

"What time did he leave yesterday?"

"Not here yesterday, sir."

"The day before?"

"Not here the day before yesterday, sir."

"What time did he leave on Monday?"

"About five minutes after you left for Brighton, sir."

"Thank you, Barlow; that's enough. By the way-"

The clerk who had almost reached the door turned and silence fell again as a few stains blew away from where they had fallen into one of the pristine cuffs.

"Send Mr Harry to me as soon as he arrives."

"Yes sir," and the man left the room; After thinking for a few moments, John Graham went to one of the tin cans on the shelf and pulled off a lid that said "Walton, Number 1."

He took from it a packet of papers, carefully folded and tied with green silk, sat down at his massive kneeler and was just untying the string when the door opened and a short, squat young man came in. He was twenty-five years old and had the good looks of a French waiter. Saving his clothes, he entered, quickly running one hand down his closely shaven face, then grasping the other to help him straighten the large, dark purple-square Joinville tie with fringes, fashionable in the early fifties.

"Do you want to see me, father?"

"Yes. Close the door.

"Oh, you don't have to be so picky. It won't be the first time Barlow has heard you bully me."

"Please close the screen door, sir," Graham said softly.

"Oh very good!" yelled the young man, and he unhooked the hook, revealing a crimson gauze door, the spring slamming shut with a dull bang and snap.

Then John Graham's demeanor changed. An angry frown formed on his forehead and he rested his elbows on the table, connecting his fingertips in an archway and peering down at the young man who had entered.

"You're two hours late this morning."

"Yes father."

"You didn't come here at all yesterday."

"No, father."

"Just the day before."

"No, father."

"Then would you be so good as to tell me how long you think this will go on? They are of no use to me at all in my professional business.”

"No, and never will be," the young man said coolly.

"That is honest. Then can you tell me why I should keep and fund such a useless drone?”

"Because you've had enough, and a big chunk of it should be mine."

"Why, sir? You are not my son."

"No, but I belong to my mother."

"Of course," Graham said with a haughty smile.

"Don't scoff, sir. If you hadn't tricked my poor mother into marrying you, I would have been fine."

"Your mother had the right to do as she pleased, sir. Where have you been?"

"Away from the office."

"I know that. Where to?"

"Where I liked it," said the young man, pouting, "I'm not a child."

“No, and this behavior has become intolerable. It's time you left for good. What do you think about going to Australia with paid passage and a hundred pounds entry fee?”

"That's not good enough."

"Then you had better carry out your old threat and join a cavalry regiment. I promise I won't buy you out."

"Thanks, but it's not good enough."

"What will you do then?"

"Doesn't matter."

Graham looked up at him sharply, this time from outside the arch of his fingers.

"Don't provoke me, Harry Duncan, for your own sake. What are you going to do?"

"Marry."

"Indeed? Well, that makes sense. But aren't there enough poor children for the church?"

"Yes, but I will not marry a poor man. You have my money and you won't give it out, so I must have it from someone else."

"Indeed! Then you will be looking for a lady with money?"

"NO. I already found one."

"Someone I know?"

"Oh yeah."

"Who is there please?"

"Katherine Walton."

Graham's eyes narrowed and he looked at his stepson in silence for a few moments. Then a scornful smile appeared on his lips.

"I didn't realize you were so ambitious, Harry. But the lady?'

"Oh, that'll be fine."

"Indeed! May I ask when was the last time you saw her?"

"Last night at dinner."

"You were down in Northwood?"

"Yes; I was there for two days."

"Did your Uncle Walton invite you?"

"No, but Claude did it to shoot a little."

"Hmph!" Graham cried thoughtfully, and the young man looked at him intently. Then his demeanor changed, and he took one of the chairs, pulled it forward, sat down, leaned forward, and began speaking confidentially.

"Look, stepfather," he half whispered, "I've been down there twice. I guessed it the first time; I was sure yesterday. They play a deep game there.”

"As a matter of fact?"

"Yes. I saw through it straight away. You're running against Claude.

“Please explain yourself, my dear; I don't understand the racing slang.”

"Well, then, they want Claude to marry Kate, and I'm not going to stand by and see that done."

"By the way, I thought Claude was your confidential friend."

“He is up to a point; But in such a case, everyone is on their own. I'm in the running myself and planning to marry Kate Walton myself. It is too good a price to pass up.”

"And does the lady tend to my stepson's addresses?"

"Well, hardly. I didn't stand a chance. They watched me like cats watch mice, and she was so sickly it wouldn't make sense to talk to her."

"Your prospects are very poor indeed."

"Oh no, they're not. This is a case where a man must play high and trumps immediately. I can also speak up and you will help me. There is no time to hesitate. If I hesitate, my chance would be wasted. I'll make my plans and take them with me."

"With her consent, of course."

"With or without," said the young man coolly.

"How?"

"Oh, I'll find a way. Girls are just girls and they will give way to a stronger will. As soon as I reach her, she will obey me and a marriage can soon be made.”

"But suppose she refuses?"

"It will be done," said the young man sharply. "The mission is worth a certain risk."

"But are you aware that the law would call this a kidnapping?"

"I don't care what the law calls it if I get the girl."

"And it would potentially mean jail time."

"Well, I suffer that now, as I am. So father, don't bother with the law. Don't be squeamish; There is a great fortune at stake and it must go to our family, not theirs.”

"Do you think they're trying?"

"Think? I'm sure. Claude was one of them, but he'd rather be somewhere else. Come on, help me? It would be a big coup."

"Help you? Bah! you stupid young prick! It's impossible. It's insane. You don't know what you're talking about. The girl could go to the first police officer and you'd be taken into custody. You and Claud Walton are having a drinking spree and the alcohol is still in your head. Go to your room there and when you can talk rationally, come back to me."

"I can talk rationally now. Can you help me with a few hundred pounds to pull this off? I should take her to the continent for a few months and bring her back to my wife.”

"Two hundred pounds to smack you in a cell on Bow Street."

"NO; one hundred and fifty thousand pounds to marry."

"No no no. You are a fool, a visionary, a madman. It is impossible, and I will consider it my duty, to write to James Walton to ban you from the house.

"Once more; will you help me?"

"Again, no. Now go and let me get on with my affairs. Someone has to work.”

"Then you won't do it?"

"NO."

"Then listen to me: I made it my goal and I'm doing it. I will do it, at any cost and risk. She won't marry Claude Walton, but she should marry me. Yes, you may smile, but if I die for it, I will have this girl and her money."

'But it would cost two hundred pounds to attempt that, sir. Maybe you'd better get that first. Now please go.”

The young man stood and glared at him for a few minutes, and Graham met his eyes steadily.

"No," he said, "that wouldn't do, Harry. The law protects us against robbery and murder, as it protects women against kidnapping. You're out of your mind. You drank last night. Go home and sleep late. Then you will feel better.”

The young man gave him a sharp look and left the room.

Graham spent ten minutes in deep thought, then got up, put the papers back in the tin box, went over and rang the bell.

"Send Mr. Harry here."

"He went out as soon as he left your room, sir."

"Thank you; that will do." Then, as the door closed behind the clerk, Graham said softly,

"That's it; then it's high time to act."

Chapter Four.

"That doctor will never come!" murmured plump Mrs. Walton, who for the last ten minutes had been running from her niece's bed to one of the front casement windows of the lovely old Keller Manor House to watch the road through the park. "He might have come from London at this point. It's no use then; It's destiny, and destiny means disappointment. She will die; I'm sure she'll die and all the money will go to those wretched Morrisons. Why did he go to the farm this morning? Any other morning would have done; and Claude gone too. Was ever a woman so troubled? - Yes, what is that? Oh, it's you Eliza. How is she doing?"

“Very insensitive, ma'am. Does the doctor never come?”

"Don't ask me Eliza. I sent the man in the dog cart over with instructions to bring him back.”

"Then pray, pray, come and stay with me in the bedroom, ma'am."

"But there's nothing I can do, Eliza, and it's not like she's my own child. I couldn't bear to see her die."

"Mrs. Walton!" cried the woman wildly. "Oh, my poor dear young mistress, whom I have nursed from infancy - die!"

"Here is the gentleman - here is Mr. Walton," called the rosy-faced lady from the window, flung herself on a glass to make sure her cap was on properly, hurried out of the room and down the wide oak staircase, to meet their Lord at the door.

"Hello, Maria, what's up?" he called when he met her in the hallway, his high boots covered in mud and a hunting whip in hand.

"Oh my dear, I'm so glad you came! Kate - fainting - one after the other - dying."

"The devil! What have you done?"

"Cold water - vinegar - burned -"

"No no. Didn't you send it to the doctor?'

"Yes, I sent Henry to fetch Mr. Lewis with the dog cart."

"Mr. Lewis! Were you crazy? What do you know about Mr Lewis? Bah, you were always an idiot!”

"Yes, my dear, but what should I do? It would have taken me three hours to - oh, here it is."

Because on the driveway you could hear the crunching of the carriage wheels, the dog cart pulled up, and Pierce Lewis jumped down and entered the hall.

Mrs. Walton gave her husband a shy look, who nodded sullenly, and then turned to the young doctor.

'My young niece - she is unwell,' he said gruffly, 'you'd better go up and see her. Here, Maria, take him up.”

unceremonious; but matter of fact, and Lewis showed no sign of resentment, but with a peculiar novel fluttering in the region of the heart, he followed the lady, who painted up the stairs for a while, and breathlessly tried to explain how tender her niece was. and how, after many days of utter despair, she was suddenly seized by an attack of hysteria, which was followed by attack after attack.

A moment later they were in the pretty bedroom at the end of a long, low corridor, where, deathly pale and with her maid - the head nurse - kneeling beside her and fanning her, lay Kate Walton in her plain black on a couch that looked as if the doctor was late.

He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth as he dropped to one knee beside the uncaring figure he was desperate to hug to his chest. Then his nerves were strained again, and he was the calm, professional man giving his orders while he conducted his examination, inspiring confidence in his aunt and nurse, the latter heaving a relieved sigh as she opened the window and obeyed various others that did As a result, after half an hour, the sufferer, who opened her eyes twice and answered her aunt's questions with a faint smile, fell into the deep sleep of exhaustion.

"You'd better leave her now, madam," Lewis said softly. "Sleep is a great thing for her." Then she turned to the maid: "You had better stay with her and take care, even if she won't wake up for hours."

"God bless you, sir," she whispered with a look of gratitude that made Lewis give her an encouraging smile, and then he followed Mrs. Walton down the stairs.

"Really, it's wonderful," she said. "Thank you, doctor. I'm sure you couldn't have been nicer if you were a rather old man, and I really think that the next time I'm sick, - oh my dear, she's so much better now."

"Hmph!" Walton ejaculated; and then he glared at his wife as she clutched him to his chest.

“Come in and sit down, Mr. Lewis. I want you to tell us everything you think."

The Doctor followed him into the library, the walls of which were covered with books that were never used, while its owner, trying to be polite, pointed to a chair and took one for himself while Lewis waited for his plump, gracious-looking hostess to settle and fill what is closest to the fire.

"Did you find her better then?" said Walton.

"No sir," Lewis said, smiling, "but she's definitely better now."

"That's what I meant. Then there's nothing going on. Perfumes, whims, the hysteria of young girls and things like that? What did she have for breakfast, Maria?"

"Nothing at all, dear. I can't make her eat."

"Hmph! Why don't you do them? I guess I can't stand our miserable kitchen. Well Doctor, so it's a false alarm?'

"No sir; a very grave warning."

"Ah? Don't you think there is danger? Here we had better get a big man from the city.”

"It's hardly necessary, sir, although I'd be delighted to meet a man with counseling experience."

"My word! What a song!" Walton said to himself.

"As far as I could tell, I was able to diagnose the case fairly well, and it's very simple. Your niece must have suffered a lot.”

“Terrible, Doctor; Her heart was broken.”

“Now, my dear Maria, please shut up and let Mr. Lewis talk. He doesn't want you to teach him his business."

"But James, dear, I've only just -"

"Yes, you always will! Please go ahead, doctor, and you will send her medication?”

"This is hardly a case for medicine, sir. Your niece's problems are almost exclusively psychological. Given the quiet and happy surroundings, the cheerful female company of her age, the fresh air, moderate exercise, and the quiet and peace of such a home, I have no doubt that her nerves will soon pick up again.”

"Then you'd better do it," Walton said gruffly. “She has everything a girl could wish for. My son and I did everything we could to keep her entertained.”

"And I'm sure I treated her as lovingly as a mother," Ms. Walton said.

"Yes, but you are mistaken, sir. There must be something more. I'd better go into town with her and ask her advice.

"Certainly, sir," Lewis said coldly. "It might be wise, but I'd say she'd be better off here if she had time to cast her own cure."

"Of course I don't mean to disrespect you, Mr. Lewis, but you are a young man and inexperienced by nature."

'Now I don't wish to hurt your feelings, James,' interrupted Mrs Walton, 'but it is you who are inexperienced as to what young girls are.' Mr Lewis spoke very nicely and quite understands poor Kate's case. If only you'd seen him bring her here!"

"I really wish, Maria, that you wouldn't meddle in what you don't understand," Walton exclaimed testily.

"But I'm bound to do it if I see you're making a mistake. It's exactly what I've told you over and over again. You men are so hard and callous and don't think there is such a thing as nervousness. I'm quite sure Mr Lewis could do her a great deal of good if you would just mind your business outside and leave it to me - you got it all at once, Mr Lewis. Poor kid, she's been worrying since she got here, and no wonder. Within a year she lost both father and mother.”

"Well, Maria, Mr. Lewis doesn't want to hear our full family history."

“And I won't tell him, my dear; But it's just how I felt Just last night, when she was having this fit of hysterical sobbing, I said to myself: Now if I had a dozen girls - as I would have liked, instead of one boy who really is a horrible trial, Mr. Lewis - me should -"

"Maria!"

"Yes, darling; but you should let me finish. If poor dear Kate had come here and found many girls, she would have been as happy as the day was long. - And you don't think she needs medical attention , Mr. Lewis? No, no, don't hurry."

"I gave you my opinion, madam," Lewis said, standing up.

"Yes, and I'm sure it's right. I gave her some liquid magnesia yesterday, the same one I take for my acid-"

"Woman, shut up!" Walton shouted.

"No, James, definitely not. As poor Kate's aunt, it is my duty to do what is best for her. And you shouldn't talk to me like that in front of a stranger. I don't know what he will think. The liquid magnesia wouldn't hurt her, would it, Mr. Lewis?'

"Not the least, madam; and I am sure that with a little motherly attention and the change I have decreed, Miss Walton will soon be well."

"So James, we must have the Morrison girls staying here with her. They're musical and—”

"We won't have anything like that, Maria," her husband said hoarsely.

'Well, I know you don't like her, my dear, but in an urgent matter – by the way, Mr Lewis, someone told me that your sister played the organ splendidly last Sunday, because the organist was ill. "

"My sister plays," Lewis said coldly.

'I wish I'd been at church to hear them, but my poor Claude had such a bad bilious headache I almost wanted to send for you and I had to stay home and tend to him. I'm sure the cooking at these cricket dinners must be very bad.'

"Well, my dear Maria, you keep Mr. Lewis."

"Oh no dear, he has been called upon to give us his advice and I am sure it is very valuable. By the way, Mr. Lewis, why didn't your sister call here?”

"I - er - really - my professional duties have left me little time for etiquette, ma'am, but I felt the first call should be for the newcomer."

"Naturally. sit down They're just sweeping the dust off that awfully thick Turkish carpet - it's such work to move and be beaten, Mr Lewis. Sit down my dear. You know how nervous it makes me when you jump up and down in a cage like a wild animal.”

"Waffle!" said Mr. Walton aside.

“You are quite right, Mr. Lewis; I should have called, but Claude is taking so much time. But I will call tomorrow and then the next day you two will come and dine with us and I am sure our poor dear Kate will be very pleased to meet your sister. Tell her - no; I'll ask them to bring some music. She seems very nice and young girls always get along so well. I know it will do my niece very well. But of course you will come back today and continue to see her as often as you deem necessary.”

"Really…" Lewis said hesitantly, casting an annoyed look at the master of the house.

"Oh yes, come Mr. Lewis and put my niece in order as soon as you can," he said.

"But your regular doctor - Mr. Rainsford, I believe?"

"You might think he's a stubborn, stubborn old fool," Walton growled. "I was about to pull my leg off when I fell on a hedge and the horse rolled over it. Simple fraction, sir; and swore it would be humiliating. I shamed him.”

"Yes, Mr. Lewis, and that leg is stronger than the other now," Mrs. Walton interjected.

"How do you know that, Maria?" her husband said harshly.

"Well, my dear, you've said that many times."

"Hmph! Come in again and see Miss Walton, doctor, and I shall feel obliged," said the uncle. "Good morning. The dog buggy is waiting to take you back. I'll send and have you picked up about - er - four?"

"It would be better to leave it until seven or eight o'clock, unless of course there is a need."

"Eight o'clock then," Walton said; and Pierce Lewis bowed and left the room, the strange feeling in his chest growing again and lasting until he got home and thought how long it would be before eight o'clock.

chapter five.

"I would very much like to know what particular sin I have committed in that I have been tormented all my life with a stupid, garrulous old woman to wife who cannot leave an hour without sticking her foot in one way or another. " ."

"Ah, you never once told me that, James," Mrs. Walton sighed.

"No, hundreds of times. It's really awful."

"But James-"

"There, please shut up - if you can, woman. The first thing you do is invite this young fellow from John Graham to stay when he comes down.”

"But my dear, it was Claude. You know how friendly those two always were.”

“Yes, to my chagrin; but you persuaded him to stay.”

"Really, my dear, I couldn't help but be rude."

"Then why weren't you rude? Do you want him to be here and make fun of the girl until she thinks he loves her and marries him?"

"Oh no honey, it would be awful. But you don't think-"

"Yes I do, luckily," Walton snapped. "Why don't you think so?"

"I'm trying, my love."

"Bah! Attempt! Then you want to introduce the Morrisons Locusts. It's bad enough knowing that if Kate dies, that's where the money will go without them hanging around wanting her to go."

"I'm very, very sorry, James. I wish I was as smart as you."

"I do too. Once you've verified that, then dodge and invite the doctor, who looks way too good, to come back and ask him to bring his sister."

"But my dear, it will do Kate very well and she seems very nice indeed."

"Nice actually! I wish you were here. I think you're half crazy."

'Really, James, you're too bad, but I won't blame you, because I want to go to Kate; But if anyone is crazy here, it's not me."

"Yes it is. Like a weak fool, I have spoken plainly to you of my plans."

"If you had always done that, we would have been better off and not having to worry about taking John Graham's advice, with his advances and interests and mortgages and foreclosures."

"You're talking about what you don't understand, woman," Walton said sharply. "Don't you see it's in our best interest to keep the poor girl here? Do you want to throw them under a flock of vulture-like kin who will devour them?”

"Of course not, my dear."

"But you tried."

"I'm sure I didn't do that. You said she was so ill you were afraid she would die and slip away from us.”

"Yes, and all their money goes to the Morrisons."

"Oh yes, I forgot about that. But I gave in right away because I didn't have her here; And what harm could it do if Miss Lewis came? I'm sure it would do poor Kate very well."

"And Claude too, I suppose."

"Claud?"

"Ugh! You silly old woman! Isn't she young and pretty? And I'll be artfully bound too; The poor doctor's young sisters always are."

"Is that you, my dear?"

"Of course they are; and before she even got here five minutes she had her eyes on the boy and you know he's like gunpowder."

"James, darling, you shouldn't."

"I was just as bad at his age - maybe worse"; and Mr. James Walton, the stern, wise squire of Northwood Manor, JP, chairman of the Quarter Sessions and of several local institutions dealing with the morals of the poor, chuckled softly and nearly laughed.

"James dear, I'm surprised at you."

"Hmph! Well, boys will be boys. You know what he is."

"But do you really think-"

"Yes, I really think so, and I wish you would too. Kate isn't getting along with our boy as well as I would like, and nothing must happen that could antagonize her. It would be madness.”

"Well, it would be very disappointing if she married anyone else."

"Disappointing? It would be ruined. So be careful."

"Oh yes dear, I will indeed. I've been trying to talk to her a little about what a dear, good boy Claud is, and - why, Claud dear, how long have you been standing there?"

"Just come. Time to hear you say what a dear, good boy I am. Won't father believe it?"

chapter six.

Claud Walton, twenty years old, with his thin, pimply face, long, narrow jaw, and cropped hair very reminiscent of brain fever or imprisonment, stood staring at his father, his looks in no way matching the high praises of his Mother supported he allowed himself a faint smile, which he smoothed directly with his thin right hand, which lingered on his lips to tenderly caress the remains of some decapitated pimples, red-sick that morning's unnecessary razor fell over them had driven away, leaving no stubble low.

The minister of the parish had said a word to his wife, Claude Walton—a very short but powerful word that he had learned in college. It was "cad" - and anyone who had heard it repeated would not have dared protest its suitability, for his face alone suggested it, although he did his best to emphasize the idea by adopting an equine, collared, patched style, adopted clothing, each garment misfitting his body.

"Has Henry Duncan gone?"

"Yes, Governor, and darling, I'm glad to go. I have to say you were awfully cool with him. He said if it wasn't for his aunt he would never black out the doors again."

"And I hope he won't, sir. He doesn't give your mother any credit."

"But I think he means well, my dear," said Mrs. Walton plaintively. "It's not his fault. My poor dear sister spoiled him so much."

"Hmph! And she wasn't alone. Look, Claude, I won't have him here. I have reasons for that and with his gambling and racing tendencies he is not a suitable companion for you.”

"Maybe old Graham says the same about me," the young man said, pouting.

"Claud, my dear, out of shame," said Mrs. Walton. "You shouldn't say things like that."

“I don't care what John Graham says; I won't have his boy here. Rude, conceited, disrespectful to me and - and - he was way too considerate of Kate."

"Oh my dear, is that what you thought?" exclaimed Mrs. Walton.

"Yes, ma'am, I thought so," her husband said harshly, "and what was worse, in your awkward way, you always left them together."

"Don't say that to me, dear, in front of Claude."

"Then don't waste your time making mistakes. Just come, won't you, sir?”

"Oh yes, father, just come," the young man said with an insulting grin.

"You heard more than you said, sir," said the squire, "so we might as well say a few words at a time."

“No, no, no, my dear; Pray, pray, don't argue with Claude now; I'm sure he wants to do everything right."

"Shut up, Maria," the squire shouted angrily.

“All right, mother; I won't argue," said the son.

“Of course I don't just want Claude to understand his position. You see, sir, you are of an age when a man no longer understands the value of money.”

"Oh, I say, boss! Come on, I like that."

"It's absolutely true, sir. You guys only see money as something to spend.”

"You're right this time."

"But it means more, sir - power, position, the respect of those around you - everything."

"You don't have to tell me, boss. I think I know a thing or two about tin.”

"Suppose we put aside the colloquial language and talk sensibly about a very important matter, sir."

“Then go on, dad; I hear."

"Then sit down, Claude."

“You better stand, Governor; Get up and get good, Ma.”

"Yes, my dear, then do it," Mrs. Walton said, smiling fondly at her son. “But now listen to what papa says; It's really very important.”

“All right, mother; But stop it father, my horse is waiting and I don't want it to catch a cold."

“Of course not, my boy; Always take care of your horse. Then I will be very brief and to the point. Look, Claude, your cousin Katherine—”

"Oh! Ah yes; I heard she was ill. What does the doctor say?"

"I don't care what the doctor says. It's just a bout of depression and despondency. This is serious business. I have given you hints before. I must now clearly state my ideas about your future. You understand?"

"It's nice, dad. You want me to marry her."

"Exactly. In time, of course."

"But wouldn't I be young to be married like the song says?"

"Years don't count, my boy," said his father majestically. “If you were ten years older and a weak, stupid fellow, it would be bad; But when it's a young man who's bright and smart and has some world experience, that's different.”

Mrs. Walton, listening attentively to her husband's words, bowed her head, smiled approvingly, and gazed at her unlicked young with a mother's pride.

But Claude's face twisted and he looked questioningly at his elder.

"I say, boss," he said, "does that mean chaff?"

"Chaff? Surely not, sir," said the father sternly. "Do I look like a man who would descend to - what you colloquially call - coddle my own son?"

"Not a bit of it, Papa; But last week you told me I was the biggest jerk you've ever seen."

"Claudio!"

"Well he did, mother, and before that he used his favorite word. "You know," the young man said, grinning.

"Claud, dear, you shouldn't."

“I didn't, mother; it was the father. I never use it except in the stable or with the dogs.”

"Claud, my boy, be serious. Yes, I said that, but you made me very angry and – er – I spoke for your good.”

"Yes, he sure is, my dear," said Mrs. Walton.

"Okay, as long as he wasn't serious. Well, to cut a long story short, do you both want me to marry Kate?”

"Exactly."

"Not a big catch. Talk about a man's wife being a huggable vine; It will be a normal weeping willow.”

"Ha! Ha! very good, my boy," said Walton, senior; "But don't be afraid of it. Poor girl, look at her losses."

"But she's getting deeper and deeper into misery. Look at her."

"It just shows the sweet tenderness of her nature, Claude dear," his mother said.

"Yes, of course," said his father, "but you'll have her eyes dried soon."

"And she really is a very sweet, lovely and beautiful girl, my dear," Ms. Walton said.

“Very well, mother; Only her eyes always look as red as a ferret's.”

"Claud dear, you shouldn't — comparisons like that are shocking."

"Oh, all right, mother. Very good; Being such a smart, urbane guy, I will sacrifice myself for the good of the family. But I say, papa, she really has these hundred and fifty thousand…?”

"Every shilling of it, my boy, and - er - that really mustn't disappear from the family."

"Well, it would be a shame. Only you will have enough to leave me and keep the old place alive.”

"Well - er - I - that is - I had to take out pretty big mortgages."

"I say, Governor," cried the young man, horrified; "You don't want to say you were hit?"

"Slap? No, my dear, most certainly not," exclaimed Mrs. Walton.

"Oh, shut up, Ma. Father knows what I mean.”

"Well, er - yes, my boy, to be perfectly honest, I've had a - er - two or three rather unfortunate speculations in the last few years, but as John Graham says -"

"Oh, stop it, old Graham! That's terrible, father; Especially now when I was about to bleed you out pretty badly.”

"Claud, my love, please pray, don't use such horrible language."

"Do you want to be quiet, Ma! It's enough to make another swear. Are you at the top, boss?”

"Oh no, no, my boy, not so bad. Things can go on as before for years and, um - with common sense, you know - you can have the money you need; But I want you to understand that you cannot look forward to having this place and that you recognize the need to seriously consider a prosperous marriage. Do you understand the situation now?”

"Dad, it smelled normal and you almost threw me out of time. I saw stars for the moment.”

"My dearest boy, what are you talking about?" Mrs. Walton asked, appealing.

"Oh trouble! But I say, boss, I'm glad you spoke to me - like a man."

"For a man, my boy," said the father and held out his hand, which the son eagerly took. "Then we understand each other now?"

"And no mistake, boss."

"You mustn't let her slip away from you, my boy."

"Probably, Dad!"

"You must be careful; no more scandals - no more antics - no more follies of any kind."

"I'm going to be a regular saint, dad. I say, "Do I think I should read for the church?"

"My God, Claude, my dear, what do you mean?"

"White collar, fluttering felt, five o'clock tea and tennis, mother. Kate would like something like that.”

Walton, senior, smiled grimly.

"No, no, my boy, be the quiet English gentleman and show her that you really care about her and that you want to make her happy. Poor girl, she wants love and compassion.”

"And she shall have her, papa, hot and strong. One hundred and fifty thousand—!”

"I would cancel every lien on the property, my boy, and it would be a great thing for my poor late brother's child."

'You think so, don't you, my dear?' said Mrs Walton, mentally stretching out a vine to cling to her husband, 'because I -'

"Determined, determined, my dear," the squire said quickly. "Thank you, Claude, my boy," he continued. "I will rely on your common sense and judgment."

"All right, governor. you give me my head I will fix everything. I will win the mission with all my might."

“I trust you, my boy; but you must be gentle and not hasty.”

"I know," the young man said with a sly look. "You leave me alone."

"Ha! So that's right,” the landowner said, taking a deep breath while smiling at his son. but still his eyes did not radiate the confidence his words expressed.

chapter seven.

"Well, then, my darling, you're feeling a lot better. You look pretty radiant this morning.”

"Am I, 'Liza?" Kate said sadly as she walked to her bedroom window and looked out over the sodden park and dripping trees.

"So much, my dear. Mr. Lewis has done you a great deal of good. I'm amazed to find such a smart, gentlemanly doctor in a remote place like this. You like him, don't you?"

The girl slowly turned and faced the speaker. Her forehead contracted slightly at the inner corners of her straight eyebrows, which were raised, giving her face a worried expression.

“I hardly do, sister, my dear; He's so strict and firm with me. He seems to be talking to me as if it was my fault that I was so weak and sick; and he doesn't know - he doesn't know."

Tears welled up in her eyes and were about to spill as she spoke.

"Ah! naughty little girl!" cried the woman in mock anger; "Cry again! I won't have it. Oh! my own pet,” she continued, changing her demeanor as she lovingly wrapped her arm around her slight waist and tenderly kissed her charge. "Please, please try. you are so much better. You have to persevere.”

"Yes, yes, sister, I will," cried the girl, making an effort and lovingly kissing the homely face.

"And what did I tell you? I am now always referred to as your maid - your lady's maid. It can no longer be a nurse.”

"Ah!" said Kate and the wistful expression returned to her eyes; "It seems like all the happy old things shouldn't be anymore."

“No, no, my dear; you mustn't talk like that. You're not yet twenty and so giving in to sadness! You must try to forget it.”

"Forget!" cried the girl reproachfully.

“No, no, don't forget, dear; But now try to face your troubles like a woman. Who could forget the dear old master and your poor dear mother? But do they want you to die of sorrow? If they could come to you one night, wouldn't they say: "Never forget us, darling; but are you trying to endure this sorrow as a true woman should?"

"Yes," said the girl thoughtfully, "and I will do that. But I don't feel like I could be happy here."

The maid sighed.

"Uncle is very nice and my aunt is very loving in her own way, but I feel like I want to be alone somewhere - with you, of course. I lay awake at night longing to be home.”

"But that's impossible now, darling. Cook wrote to me the other day and she told me the house and furniture had been sold and the workers were there and - oh what a stupid woman I am. Nice try to comfort you!”

"It's nothing, 'Liza. "It's all gone now," the girl said with a rueful smile.

“That's nice and brave of you; but I'm very stupid, my dear. There, you will try to be more hopeful and think about the future?"

"Yes, I will; but I'm sure I'd be better off and happier if I left here. Couldn't we have a cottage somewhere - maybe by the sea - and live together?"

“Well, you could, my dear; But it wouldn't be nice for you, and neither would your uncle and aunt be treated properly. Come and try to get well. So you don't like Doctor Lewis?"

"No I do not think so."

"Not yet Miss Jenny?"

"Oh yes, I like her," Kate said briskly. "She's very sweet and girly. Oh, nurse, my love, I wish I could be as happy and carefree as you are!"

"You will be soon, my darling. I don't want to see you like her. You are so different; But she's a very nice girl and you might see more of her as you go. You would rather want a companion of your own age. Then the breakfast bell rings! What a wet, sodden morning; But down here it's not as foggy as it used to be on the square and the sun is shining more; and Miss Kate—”

"Oh, don't talk like that, sister!"

"But I have to, my dear. I have to keep my place down here.”

"Well, if we're alone, then. What were you going to say?"

"I want you to try and make me happy down here."

"ME? How can I?"

“By letting the sun shine on your face again. You almost broke my heart lately seeing you cry and being so sick.”

"I'll try, sister."

"That's right. What is that? Hail?"

At that moment there was a knock on the door.

"Almost ready to descend, honey?"

The door opened and Mrs. Walton appeared.

"May I come in? Ah, all set. Come on, that's better, my pretty pet. You look pretty and quite a color is coming to your face. Doesn't she look pretty this morning?"

"Yes Ma'am; I told her."

"I thought we should bring her over. I am happy and you are a very good girl. Your uncle will be delighted; But come down and let's make the tea or he'll run around like a roaring lion to get his food. Oh! God bless me, what is this?”

"That" was a sharp rattle on the window pane for the second time.

"Certainly not hail. "Oh, you naughty boy," she continued, opening the window. "Claud dear, you shouldn't throw stones at the bedroom windows."

"Just a little shot. Morning. How is Kate? Tell her breakfast is waiting.”

"We're coming, my dear, and your cousin is much better. Come here my love.”

Kate blushed slightly as she walked to the open window and Claude stood there glancing up with a grin.

"How are you? Didn't you hear the shot I fired earlier?"

"Yeah, I thought it was hail," Kate said coldly.

"Only number six. But come down; The governor had been out for two hours and wanted to change his wet boots.

"We're coming, my dear," called Mrs. Walton; "And Claude, my dear, I'm sure your feet must be wet. Go inside and change your boots immediately.

"Take care. They're fine."

“Now don't be stubborn, my dear; You know how sensitive your throat is, and— There he's gone. I need you to help me make him more obedient, Kate my dear. I've already noticed how much more attention he pays to what you're saying. But there, come with me.”

James Walton was already in the breakfast room, looking at his letters and scowling at them like the proverbial sore-headed bear.

"Come on, Maria," he growled, "should we never have any? Oh, my love, you're at breakfast now! Makes up for a wet morning,” and he met his niece, kissed her, took her hand under his arm and led her to a chair on the side of the table closest to the fire. "This is your apartment, my dear, and it has looked very empty for the last two weeks. I am very pleased that you filled it out again. I'm saying," he continued, giggling and rubbing his hands, "you look like yourself again."

"Yes," said Mrs. Walton, "but you don't have to save all the good mornings and kisses for Kitty. Oh, it's very nice to be young and pretty, but when Uncle wants to pet you like that, I get pretty jealous.” This nods and smiles meaningfully at her niece as she takes her place at the table behind the hissing urn.

"You've been petted too much, Maria. It makes you too plump and rosy.”

"James, dear, you shouldn't."

"Oh yes, I should," her husband said, laughing. "I know Kitty noticed. But is this boy coming in for breakfast?”

“Yes, yes, yes, my dear; but don't yell like that. You're quite frightening, dear Kitty. Please remember that she is an invalid.”

"Bah! Not her. Get well soon and come with me on rides and trips to the farms. Isn't it, my dear?"

"I will be very happy to do that, uncle - soon."

"That's right. Soon we'll have some roses among the lilies. Ha! Ha! You'll have to steal some from your aunt. She has too much of it on her cheeks, doesn't she, my dear - damask, but we want virginal ones blush, right?”

"Shut up, James. You really shouldn't."

"Where's Claude? He must have heard the bell.”

"Oh yes, and he came and called Kitty. He only went to change his wet boots.”

"Wet boots! He wasn't down until nine o'clock. Oh, here you are, sir. Come along."

"Have you changed your boots, Claude?"

"No, mother," said this gentleman, sitting down opposite Kate.

"But you should, my dear."

Walton gave his niece a cheerful look and nodded, which meant, "You take care of me."

"Yes, you should, my dear," he continued, mimicking his wife's demeanor; "And why don't you wear galoshes when you go out?"

Claud stared at his father and looked as if he thought he was spiritually touched.

"Isn't it disgusting, Kitty dear?" said Walton. "She would wrap him in a flannel and feed him with a spoon if she had her way with the big burly guy."

"Don't take note of your uncle's nonsense, my dear. Claude, my dear, would you bring Kitty's cup?"

“She would coddle him regularly. And we don't want a doctorate here. I've had enough of that in the past two weeks. I say you're going to throw Lewis overboard this morning. You don't want him anymore, do you?"

"Oh no, I'll be fine now."

"Yes," her uncle said with a knowing look. "Don't you have any more? And I say you have to foot his long bill for Jalap and Pilly Coshy. Provided you can afford it.”

“I wish, my dear, you would let the dear child eat breakfast in peace; And sit down and leave your cousin alone, Claude, my dear; I'm sure she won't eat bacon. It's so fidgety when things are forced on you.”

"You're eating your egg, Ma! Kitty and I understand each other. She wants to be fed and I take on the task of feeding her.”

“That's right, boy; she wants perseverance.”

"But she can't eat it all, James."

"Who said she could? She's not a stout older lady.”

The head of the family looked at his niece with a wide smile, as if looking for a laugh at his joke, but the smile that greeted him was very pale and wintry.

'Any letters, my dear?' said Mrs Walton, as the breakfast wore on, while Kate grew weary of her cousin's attentions, all of which resulted in a hasty movement at her side of the table and a squeeze on the breakfast delicacies .

The wintry expression seemed to have passed from Kate's face to her uncle's, but it wasn't pale; on the contrary, it was downright stormy.

"Yes," he said with a grunt.

"Something special?"

"Yes very."

"What's the matter, my love?"

"Not both - er - letter from John Graham."

"Oh, my God!" said Mrs. Walton, looking horrified; and her husband shot a foot out to her particular advantage, but as his leg was not eight feet long the shot missed.

'He says he'll come over for a few days to sort out that little real estate thing; and that it will give him the opportunity to have a few chats with Kate here. You say you like Mr Graham, my dear?”

"Oh yes," Kate said softly; "He was always very nice and friendly to me."

"Of course, darling; who wouldn't?" said Mrs. Walton.

"Claud, boy, I suppose the pheasants are running low."

"Oh, there are a few left," said the young man.

"You have to get up sometimes and try to find some rabbits. Uncle Graham likes a little shooting. Did you often see John Graham, my dear, when you were at home?'

"No, uncle, not much. He sometimes came to dinner with us and was always very friendly to me since I was a very little girl, but he and my dad were never very intimate."

"A very handsome man, my dear, and so handsome," said Mrs. Walton.

"Yes, very much," said her husband dryly; "And handsome is so handsome."

"Yes, my dear, of course," said Mrs. Walton; and by the end of breakfast very little more was said, when the lady of the house asked what time the guest would be downstairs.

"Ask me to send the dog wagon to the midday train. hump! The rain is over and the sun is coming out. Here, Claude, show your cousin through the greenhouse and conservatory. She didn't see the plants."

"All right, father. Don't you mind that I smoke, do you, Kitty?"

"Of course she'll say no," Walton said testily; "But I'm sure you can get by without a whistle for an hour or two."

"Oh, very good," said Claude ungraciously; and he offered his arm to his cousin.

She looked surprised at the unnecessary attention, but accepted it; and they went through the French window onto the wide veranda, the glass door swinging open behind them.

"What a sweet couple they will make, James dear," said Mrs. Walton, smiling fondly after her son. "How kind she is to our dear boy!"

"Yes, like the rest of the idiots. A girl always says "snap" to the first coat and pants that come near her."

"Oh, James, my dear! You shouldn't say I certainly didn't do that!"

"You! Well, on my soul! How can you stand there and tell such a lie! But never mind; It'll be quite easy and we'll get it over with as soon as we reasonably can, if you don't have one make a stupid mistake and spoil it.”

"James, darling!"

“Be just like you. But I got a nice letter from John Graham about this mortgage. But whatever; Once that's over, I can snap my fingers at him. So be as polite as possible; and I suppose we must give him the best wine."

"Yes, dear, and take the china service."

"Of course. But I wish you'd put him in a damp bed."

"Oh, James, my dear! I couldn't do that."

"Yes you could; give him rheumatic fever and kill him. But I suppose you won't do that."

"Indeed I won't, dear. There are many wicked things I could do, but to put a Christian in a damp bed - no!"

"Hmph! Well, then don't do it; but I hope the boy is careful and doesn't frighten Kitty."

"What, Claude? Oh no, my love, don't be afraid of it. My boy is too smart; and besides, he's starting to love the ground she walks on. Really, it seems like a heavenly affair to me.”

"It's always like that, my dear, when the lady has over a hundred thousand pounds," said Walton with a grim smile; "But we will see."

Chapter Eight.

"I say don't hurry so much. You're okay here, you know? I would like to talk to you."

"You really have to excuse me now, Claude; I'm not feeling well and I'm going back to my room.”

"Of course you weren't well, Kitty - I say I'll call you Kitty, you know - you can't expect to be well and miserable upstairs in your room. I'll fix you up soon, better than that serious-looking doctor. They want to be out and about in the woods and fields. I know the country here very well. I say you ride, don't you?"

"ME NO."

"Then I'll teach you. Have your spinster make you a nice long skirt - that's enough for the time being as a riding habit - I'll put on the side saddle and will soon show you how to ride like a brave girl should. I'm telling you, Kitty, I'm going to hold you tight - tight.

The speaker smiled at her and the girl backed away from him, but he didn't see her.

"You will ride soon, and then we will have the best time together. I will let you ride so that by this time next year you can follow the hounds and climb a hedge with the best of them.”

"Oh no, I don't feel like riding, Claude."

"Yes, you have. You're thinking that now because you're a little depressed; but you wait until you're on the butt, and then you'll never want to get off. I don't. I'm saying you don't have me riding." see."

"No, Claude; but I have to go now."

"You mustn't, because. I will wake you up. I'll say I don't want to brag, but I can drive - everything. I always manage on the first flight and a little thing like you after I've traveled with you for a bit will amaze some of them. I'll keep my eyes open and the first pretty little tit I see that I think suits you, I'll let the governor buy it."

"I beg you not, Claude."

"That's right, do it. Get on your poor knees and beg, and I'll still get the mount for you. I know what's good for you and gets the blood to your pretty cheeks. No, no, don't hurry so much. I won't let you go upstairs and bear misery like a bird. I take it you've never handled a gun?"

"No, never," said Kate, half angry now; "of course not."

"Then you will do it. You can have my double pipe that my father bought for me when I was a boy. It is light as a feather, reaches magnificently to the shoulder and has no more step than a mouse. I'll tell you what, if it's good this afternoon you put on big boots and a hat and we'll walk along the fir plantations and you'll get your first glimpse of a pheasant."

"I'm shooting a pheasant!" Kate cried in horror.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Claude playfully. "Yes, you have your first chance at a pheasant. Shudder? That's just like a London girl. How dreadful, isn't it?"

"Yes, terrible for a woman."

"Not a bit of it. You will like it after the first shot. You'll be ready to shove in the bullets with your little hands and hunt down the birds. I say I'll teach you how to fish and fly. You will like it and you will soon forget all the tribulations. you have been spoiled; but after a month or two here you won't know it yourself. Don't be in such a hurry, Kitty."

“Don't hold my hand like that, Claude; I really have to go now," Kate said, her worried face clouded with wonder, anger and something that bordered on fear. "I really want to go inside."

"No, do not do that; you want to stop with me. I won't have another chance to talk to you while old Graham is here. I'm saying I saw you come out to take that little walk up and down here. I watched and followed you to show you the way around the grounds.”

"It was very kind of you, Claude. Thank you very much; but let me go in now.”

"Shouldn't I have the opportunity to walk with a girl like you every day? I'm glad you came. It makes our house feel very different.”

"Thanks for saying that - but I'm feeling pretty drained now."

“There is a greater need to be in the fresh air. You'll pass out and I'll bring you back to you with a kiss. Something like that can heal a girl who faints.”

She looked at him in shock and disgust as he burst out laughing.

"I suppose old Graham isn't a bad guy, but we don't particularly like him around here. I say, "What do you think of Harry Duncan?”

"I – I hardly know," said Kate, doing her best to find her way back with a few laurel trees to where the conservatory door next to the living room stood open. "I've seen so little of him."

"All the better for you. He's not a bad guy for men, but he's a terrible guy with girls. Not a gentleman at all. However, you won't see much of him since the governor says he won't have him here. I say a month ago it would have driven me insane because I want him as a partner, but now that you've come I don't mind. We will be firm friends and we will go everywhere together. I'll soon show you what country life is. Well, if you go in now, I won't stop you. I'll go and get the little gun cleaned, and - I say come over on the other side; I didn't show you the dogs."

"No, no – please not now, Claude. I'm really tired and passed out."

Still holding her hand tightly under his arm, though she struggled to pull it back, he followed her into the conservatory, which was large and well filled with ornamental shrubs and palm trees.

"Well, you may look a little tired, dear, but it suits you. I say I'm so glad you came. What a pretty little hand that is. Will you give me a kiss before you go?"

She recoiled in horror from him.

“Nobody can not see here. Just one thing,” he whispered as he wrapped his arm around her waist; and before she could free herself he had kissed her roughly twice.

"Er-mm," Mrs. Walton called out in a low, simmering voice. "Claud, Claud dear, shocking, shocking! Oh, ugh, ugh, ugh! You shouldn't, you know. Everyone would think you were an engaged couple."

"Auntie dear!" Kate called in an excited voice as she clung to the lady, but no further words came.

"Oh, there, my dear, don't you look like it," exclaimed Mrs. Walton. "I'm not angry at all. You guys are crazy. I didn't blame you, my dear, only that naughty Claude. It was really very rude of him. Really, Claude, my dear, that's not very gentlemanly of you. Poor Kate is quite concerned.”

"Then you shouldn't have looked," cried the fool with a loud laugh.

"Claud! shame! I won't let it. It's disrespectful to your mother. Now come in, both of you. Mr Graham is here - with your father, Claude my dear; and I wish you to be very nice and respectful to him because who knows what may happen? Kate, my dear, I never think about money, but when you have rich relatives who don't have children of their own, I always say that we shouldn't bother teasing them. Henry Duncan is certainly my sister's child, but one cannot help but think more of one's own son; And since Harry means nothing to Mr Graham, I can't see how he can remember Claude very strongly in his will."

"Don't Claude wish he could have it?" the young man cried, grinning. "I won't bother old Graham for his money."

“No one wishes it on you, my dear; but come in; They must have finished their business by now. Come on my darling There's already a pretty bloom on your cheeks. I felt like a little fresh air would do me good. You are in the library; come along. We can go in through the porch. Don't whistle, Claude, my dear; it's so boyish."

They walked together through the opposite door of the conservatory onto the porch, and as they approached an open window, a soft, gentle voice said:

“I'll do my best, Mr. Walton; but I'm just the agent. But if I ward it off, it can only be for a little while, and then - Oh, my dear child!'

John Graham, calm, sleek, well dressed and handsome, rose from one of the library chairs as Kate entered with her aunt and held out both hands: "It's a pleasure to see you again - I'm very, very sorry to hear.” that you were so sick. Hah!” He continued, examining the excited face in front of him in a tenderly fatherly way, “not quite right yet,” and led her to a chair near the fire. "This rosy shade is a bit too busy and the face is too translucent white. You must take care of her, Maria Walton, and make sure she gets lots of that nice fresh air. I hope she is a good obedient patient.”

"Very, very, really good, John Graham, just a little inclined to stay in your room."

"Well, of course, too," Graham said, smiling. "What do we all do when we're feeling down? But we mustn't start a discussion about complaints. However, I am very pleased to see you again, Kate, and congratulations on being here.”

"Thank you, Mr. Graham," she replied, giving him a wistful look as the sense of loneliness among these people made her heart clench.

"Well, Walton, I don't think we need to talk more about business?"

"Oh, we won't stay," exclaimed Mrs. Walton. "Come on, Kate, my child, and let these dreadful men speak."

"No way," said Graham; "Sit still, pray. We shall have plenty of time tonight over a cigar for whatever else we have to say, for I have come to rely on your hospitality for a day or two.”

"Of course, of course," Walton said quickly; "Maria has a room ready for you."

'Yes, your old room, John Graham; and it's beautifully broadcast and just the way you like it.”

"Thank you Maria. Your aunt always spoils Kate when I come here. I consider the place to be a true oasis in the desert of toil and business; and finally I have to tear myself away or I'd become a die-hard toad eater."

"Well, why don't you go?" said Claude. "I just wish I had your chance."

“My dear Claude, you speak in the voice of twenty-one. When you're twice my age, you'll find that money, position and enjoyment of life soon fade away and the true enjoyment of life really lies in work.”

"Walker!" said Claude scornfully.

Graham laughed happily, and while Walton and his wife frowned and shook their heads at their son, he turned to Kate.

"It's no use preaching young people," he said, "but what I say is the truth." Not that I mind a little fun, Claude, boy. I look forward to a few lessons with you, my boy - fun ones, as you call them, and as I always have. How about the pheasants?”

"More than you will shoot."

"Surely. My eye is not as true as it was, Maria."

"Stuff! You still look like a pretty young man."

"Well, I feel like that sometimes. What about the pike in the lake, Claude? Can we troll a bit?”

"It's full of it. The weeds are rotten and the pikes want to be trimmed. Will you come?"

"I will come! I will indeed do that; and I would ask your cousin to come to the lake with us to watch our sport, but that would not be wise. How is the bay?

"Perfectly healthy. Tell me and I'll have him with me if you want a ride."

"After lunch, my dear, after lunch," said Mrs. Walton.

"Yes, after lunch I should enjoy it," Graham said.

"Then two, sharp," said Claude.

"Yes, two, period," Graham replied, looking at his watch. "Now it's a quarter to one."

"Yes, and lunch at one."

"By the way," said Graham, "Harry said he's been down here and you gave him a good laugh." I'm afraid I made a mistake in binding him to the law."

Walton shifted restlessly in his chair and glared at his wife, who was beginning to get restless, and then looked at Kate and then at her son.

Graham didn't seem to notice, but smiled mildly as he leaned back in his chair.

"Oh yes, he shot at the pheasants," said Claude sneering; "But he only wounded one, and he escaped."

"This is bad," Graham said. "But he hasn't had your experience, Master Claude. But it's very kind of you, James, to let him stay with you, and of you, Maria, to make the boy so welcome. He speaks very gratefully about you.”

"Oh, that's not my fault, John Graham," said the lady hastily; "But of course I am bound to welcome him when he comes," and she heaved a small sigh as she looked at her master again, as if convinced that she had exonerated herself of a grave charge.

"Well then we'll thank the squire," Graham said, smiling at Kate.

"I don't have to say thank you," Walton said gruffly. "I do not interfere in Claude's choice of companions. If you think I'm encouraging him to come to me and neglect his work, you're dead wrong. You need to talk to Claude.”

"I don't want him," cried this gentleman.

"But I think I understood that he said you asked him downstairs again."

"I don't," cried Claude. "He would say anything."

"Indeed! I'm sorry to hear that. In fact I half expected to find him down here and if so I'd ask you James if you think it's possible to find him as - and what shall I say?—than to take a sort of peasant schoolboy.”

"I?" exclaimed Walton in dismay. "What! Keep him here?"

“Well – um – yes. He has such a fondness for country life and I thought he would be extremely useful as some sort of warden or bailiff while he learns to be a gentleman farmer.”

"They keep him at his desk and make a lawyer out of him," Walton said sourly. “Then he will be able to make a living and not have to constantly borrow to make ends meet. Nothing can be done with agriculture.”

"Do you hear that, Kate, dear?" Graham said with a meaningful smile. "It's quite proverbial how the British farmer complains."

"Then try farming and you'll see."

"Why not?" said Graham, laughing as his host writhed in his chair. "Life in the country, with horses to ride, hunting, shooting and fishing, always seems like a glorious life to me."

"Oh yes," growled Walton, "and crop failures and falling markets and swine fever and leeches on your sheep and rinderpest on your cattle and the bank rejecting your checks."

"Oh, come on, come on, not so bad! "They have both fair weather and bad weather," Graham said happily. "Then Harry wasn't downstairs already, Claude?"

"No, I haven't seen him since he came back the other day," Claude said, adding, "And I don't want to either."

"That's strange," Graham said thoughtfully. "I wonder where he went. However, I assume that he will be back in the office by now. I don't like it when we're both away together. When the cat's gone, the mice play Kate, as the old saying goes."

"Then why don't you stop by the office, you jolly old slim black cat, and come here purring?" Claude said to himself. "Of course you can spit and swear and scratch if you like."

There was a dead silence at that moment, which touched Mrs. Walton so much that she felt she had to say something, and she turned to the visitor.

"Of course, John Graham, we don't mean to encourage Harry Duncan here, but if -"

"Ah, lunch is finally ready here," Walton called out so loudly that his wife flinched at his angry glare and flinched, while the bell in the small wooden turret kept ringing.

"Oh yes, lunch," she said hastily. "Claud, my dear, are you taking in your cousin?"

But Graham had already stood up with a mild, friendly smile and walked over to Kate.

"May I?" he said as if unaware of his sister-in-law's words; and at that moment a servant opened the library door, as if to announce lunchtime, but instead said:

"Mr. Harry Duncan, sir!"

This gentleman entered the room.

Chapter Nine.

"Hello, Harry!" said Claude, breaking the so-called awkward pause the newcomer had received in icy silence.

"Ah, Harry, my boy," Graham said with a pleasant smile, "I half expected to find you here."

"Do you have any?" said the young man, trying to relax. "Rather a tough morning for a walk - the roads are so bad. I walked for a few hours to see how Kate Walton was doing. I thought you'd give me some lunch."

"Of course, my dear," Mrs. Walton said stiffly, glancing at her husband afterwards as if to say, "Wasn't that right?"

"A knife and fork pretty much doesn't make much of a difference at my table," Walton said sourly.

"And he looks really hungry," Claude said with a grin.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Kate," the young man continued, reaching out to take the hand his stepfather had let go of for the moment.

"Thanks, yes," Kate said softly; "I'm better."

"Well, we can't keep lunch waiting," Graham said. "Aren't you going to take your aunt over with you, Harry? And by the way, I must ask you to come back tonight so that you can be at the office on time in the morning, because I am afraid my business will keep me here for a few more days.”

"Oh yes, I'll be there," the young man replied with a meaningful look at Graham; Then he offered his arm to Mrs. Walton and went into the dining room to partake of a lunch which, if not for Graham, would have been eaten almost in silence. With his easy, flowing conversation, he deftly kept the ball rolling and seemed to be a master at the art of bringing each one in turn to his or her particular issue, entirely for the benefit of the convalescent, to whomever he was constantly appealing to her Verdict.

The result was that, to her own surprise, the girl became more animated, and more than once found herself looking gratefully into the eyes of the courtly man of the world, who spoke as if he were quite at ease on whatever subject he raised Home, whether the subject was a discussion with the hostess about cooking and preserves, with Walton about farming and the treatment of cattle, or with the young men about hunting, shooting, fishing, and the drama.

And it all happened so pleasantly that a load seemed to fall from the bosom of the sufferer, and she found herself comparing her life to what it might have been if Graham had been left to her guardianship, and wondered half why her father had done this. Being one of the most cultured and conscientious of men, she should have chosen her uncle James and not the elegant, courtly kinsman who made it so easy for her and listened to her words with such fatherly deference.

"I wish I could lure her out like he did," thought Cloud. "Those old bastards! They always seem to know what to say to make a girl smile."

"He'll watch me like a cat watches a mouse," Harry said to himself, "but I'll deal with her somehow."

James Walton said little and seemed dejected, largely due to the pressure money was putting on his brain; But Mrs. Walton said much, much more than she should have said. Some of their speeches were particularly unfortunate, and the following only made matters worse. But Graham always came to her rescue when Walton's brow darkened; and the lady sighed to herself when the meal was over.

"If Harry doesn't come, I'll drop by," Claude said to himself; and then loudly: "Near two. Would you like to go for a spin with us, Harry, go fishing or shooting?”

"ME? No. I'm tired from my walk and need to do it again tonight."

"No, you didn't," Claude said sullenly; "You know you're being pushed back."

"Oh yes," said Graham; "Your uncle won't let you go. Better come on, Harry.”

“Thank you, no sir; I'll stop here and talk to Auntie and Kate."

"No darling; we mustn't tire Kate, she has to lie down this afternoon."

“All right, aunt; I'll stop and talk to you and uncle."

"Then you'll have to tour the farms with me if you do that," Walton growled.

"No thanks; I've walked through the mud enough for one day."

"Let him have his way, Claude, my boy," Graham called. "We have to go. I hope to see you for dinner, Kate, my child?”

She smiled at him.

"Yes, I hope I'm well enough to come down," she replied.

"That's right; and we'll see what we can boast of when we get back. Come on boy."

Claude was ready to hesitate, but he couldn't flinch and followed Graham, the young men's eyes meeting in defiance.

But when he reached the door, he turned around.

"I didn't say goodbye to you, Mom. "All right," he called and kissed her exuberantly. "I won't let them shoot me and I'll make sure I don't fall off the boat. I say," he whispered, "don't let him get Kate alone."

"Oh, that's your game, isn't it?" said Harry to himself; "Treat it with contempt. All right, proud stepfather; You don't have all the brains in the world."

He followed the gentlemen into the hall and then stood at the door to see them off, hearing Graham say intimately, "Let's show 'em what we can do, Harry, my boy. It's just the right day for the pike. Here, try one of these; They tell me they are more likely to have choices.”

"Oh, I'll light my pipe," the young man said, pouting.

“Usually a wise man; But try one of these first, and if you don't like it, throw it away."

Claud, rather sullenly, lit the proffered cigar and they went away; While Harry, after seeing Walton walking towards the stables, walked back into the hall and was about to enter the living room, a glimpse of his muddy boots made him hesitate.

He could hear Mrs. Walton's voice as she spoke aloud to her niece, and twice he raised his hand to the doorknob but lowered it each time; and as he went back into the dining room he rang the bell.

"Can I have my boots brushed?" he said to the footman.

"Yes sir, I'll bring you a pair of slippers."

"Oh no, I'll come into the pantry and put my feet up on a chair."

The man did not seem pleased about this, but he went ahead to his place, fetched the blackening and the brushes, and while manipulating them he underwent a sort of cross-examination of the household affairs, and answered the first question rather briefly, which rest with a good dose of zeal. For the visitor's hand had slipped into his pocket and come out with half a crown, with which he rasped the back of the old Windsor chair on which he rested his foot, and then, balancing it on one finger, he tapped it softly, so that it made a pleasant ringing sound, which the man's ear was very grateful for, for with the greatest care he wiped it, blackened it, polished it, breathed on the leather, and brushed it again.

"Keeping good hours as always?" said Duncan, after several questions had been asked.

"Oh yes sir. Prayers at eight-thirty, and if we get a light anywhere after ten, I'm sure the governor will see it and cause a riot. He is also terrible in the morning, at night and in the morning.”

"Yes, it's very early in the morning, I noticed that. Well, it lengthens the days.”

“Well, sir, that's true; But you have to get up pretty quick to get your boots ready at seven and take your hot water to your room, because by the time it's five minutes later he's there in front of you, waiting, looking black as thunder. They say my predecessor was fired because he was fifteen minutes late two or three times and it's not easy to be ready in weather like this.”

"What, dark in the morning?"

"Oh no sir, that's not what I mean. It's his boots. It makes them so clogged and soggy that I have to wash them and put them on the kitchen fire overnight, and if that runs out too soon it's a horrible job of making them shine. They don't have that hot pair of feet in them, sir. Does your portmanteau come with the courier?”

"Oh no, I'm going back tonight. And that reminds me – is there a good dog cart in the village?”

"Dog carts, sir?" said the man, laughing; "Not here. The baker has a donkey cart and there are plenty of farmer's carts. That's all that's around."

"I thought so, but I haven't been here much lately."

"But you don't need to worry about that, sir. Master will surely order our trap round to take you to the station and Tom Jones will be happy to drive you.”

"Oh yes; of course; but I like being independent. I daresay I will be going back."

"I wouldn't do that, sir, I beg your pardon, it's an awkward walk in the dark. But I'll tell you what, sir, if so, there's the man at Barber's Corner, in the little pub two miles up the road. He has a very good pony and a good trap. He does some chicken doodles all over the country. If you mention my name, sir, he would be happy to drive you for a guilder or half a crown."

"Well, we'll see," Duncan said, laying down his second leg. “Looks much better after the touch up. Get a glass.”

"Thank you Sir. Thank you Sir. But I beg your pardon, sir, I'll just give Tom Jones a chance and he'll have the horse ready for you in the dog cart in time. He will assume it will be intentional. Everything will be fine, sir. I wouldn't trample it around on a dark night, sir, and it's only good for the horse. Sometimes they really eat their heads off here.”

"No, no, definitely not," Duncan said. "Thanks anyway, uh - Samuel."

"Thank you, sir," said the man, and the half-crown donor went back through the felt-covered swinging door and crossed the hallway.

“I shouldn't have been so proud; but maybe he won't get half a crown anymore. Lord, what would a lord do but submit to an obligation!”

Even this half-crown seemed to have been thrown away, for when the giver entered the drawing-room he found it empty, and after a moment's hesitation he returned to the hall, where just in time he met the servant with a wooden tray, on the way to clear away the lunch things.

"Is your mistress going out?" he said. "There's nobody in the living room."

"I went upstairs to take your nap, sir," the man said in a low voice. "I take it Miss Walton went into her room too?"

Duncan nodded, picked up his hat, went out, lit a cigar and began pacing, evidently admiring the front of the old, long, low red brick house with its many windows and two wings covered in wisteria were roses. A window - that at the end of the west wing - held his attention very much, and he looked up at it for a long time before slowly making his way to the garden, where he showed great interest in the vines and the walls, where a few men with their leaders were busy nailing.

Here he stood for a few minutes watching them - the deft way in which they rearranged, with scraps and nails, the thin supporting shoots of peach and plum.

After that he went through an arched door in the wall and smoked in front of the raised pear trees before he went into the yard where the tool shed stood and under the eaves hung the ladders used to gather the apples in the orchard of the long, low mushroom house.

Twice he went back into the hall, but the parlor was open and the place was wonderfully calm and still.

"Anyone would think he was the master here," one of the men said as he watched Duncan pass for the third time. "It won't be much if he doesn't know about the place when he's done."

"I shouldn't be surprised if it is him," said the other. "He and his father's attorneys and the governor don't seem too cheerful at the moment. They say he's on Queer Street.

"Who are you?" said his companion indistinctly, as if he had two nails and a rag between his lips.

"Why them? I don't know, but the point is that they felt a little uncomfortable with the governor of Bramwich Bank."

"It's nothing. Life is made up of ups and downs. It won't hurt us. We'll get our reward, I think. They'll always get paid."

The afternoon passed and at dusk Graham and Claud appeared, followed by a workman carrying a basket too short to hold the head and tail of a twelve-pound pike lying on a half-dozen more.

"It would be better to come with us, Harry," Claude said. “I was pretty good at sports. Did you find it boring?”

"ME? No," was the reply. "I'm saying, what time are you having dinner tonight?"

"Old hour - six."

"Will you stay for dinner, Harry?" Graham said.

"Oh yes; I'll stick to dinner," the young man said, giving him a defiant look.

"Well, it will be more pleasant, but it's a very dark ride."

"Yes, but I'll walk."

"No, you're not," Claude said in a surly voice; "We'll have you run over."

"There is no need."

"Oh yes, there is. I would like to go for a cigar after dinner and I will pick you up. We don't do that, even though we haven't asked anyone to come."

Kate reappeared at dinner and once again Graham was the life and soul of what would otherwise have been a fraught party. But it wasn't done in a rollicking, ostentatious way. Everything was tasteful and Kate became very animated on more than one occasion until she found the two young men listening intently to her as she withdrew into herself.

Mrs. Walton made it through supper without her lord frowning once, and she congratulated herself on her success, rising at a signal as her last words developed into a wild flash in his eyes.

"Don't you think you'd better stop until morning, Harry Duncan?" she said.

But his quick reply immediately calmed the storm.

"Oh no, thanks, Aunt," he said, glancing sideways at Graham. "I have to be back in the morning to attend to my business."

"But it's so dark, my dear."

"Bah! The darkness won't bother him, Maria, and I told them to bring the dog cart over at eight o'clock.

"Oh, that's very kind of you, sir," said the young man; "But I had decided to walk."

"I told you to take you over there, didn't I?" Claude growled.

"Yes but-"

"I know. Stay tuned. We don't have to start until eight-thirty, then there's still time for coffee and a cigar."

"Then I'd better bid you goodnight, Mr. Duncan," Kate said quietly, holding out her hand.

"Oh, we'll meet again," he cried.

"NO; I'm about to ask Auntie to let me go to my room; It's been a busy day."

"Good night then," he said impressively, and he took and squeezed her hand in a way that made her blush slightly, and Claud shrugged an arm and doubled his list under the table.

"Good night. Good night, Claude." She shook hands; then she went to her uncle.

"Good night, my love," he said, pulling her in to kiss her on the cheek. "I'm glad you're feeling so much better."

"Thanks Uncle. "Good night, Mr. Graham." Her lip trembled a little, but she smiled gratefully at him as he stood and spoke softly and lovingly.

"Good night, my dear child," he said. "Let me play doctor with some good advice. Plan a long night's sleep and ask your uncle and aunt to excuse you at breakfast in the morning. You have to hurry up slowly to regain your strength. Good night."

"You must take good care of her, James," he continued as he returned to his seat. "Um! Yes, I intend to," said the host. "A very, very cute belt," Graham said thoughtfully, his face perfectly calm as he met his stepson's dodgy stare.

Then coffee was brought in; At a gesture from his father, Claud fetched a box of cigars and was taken out by Graham while smoking to give a quiet account of their afternoon sport with the pike.

"The gaff hook is quite bent," he said later, when the creaking of wheels could be heard; and shortly after the young men had begun, Mrs. Walton came into the hall to see them off, and to advise them to wrap themselves well round their breasts.

That night, John Graham broke his host's rules by leaving his candle burning late into the night while he sat deep in thought by the bedroom fireplace; because he had a lot on his mind. "No," he finally said, getting up to wind his watch; "She wouldn't dare. But forewarned is forearmed, my man. You were never meant for a diplomat. Bah! Not for anything else either.”

But it was a long time before John Graham slept that night.

Chapter Ten.

"I say boss, when is old Graham leaving?"

"Oh, very soon, boy," James Walton said testily.

"But you said that a week ago and he seems to be settling in like he owns the place."

The father let out a deep, drawn out sigh.

"It's no use your snorting, Papa; that does not help. Why don't you tell him to go?"

"No no; impossible; and remember what you are about; Be polite to him.”

"Well, I am. I can't help it; he's such a wonderful guy to deal with and has such good cigars - I say sir, very different from your seventeen and sixpenny cases of weed. I wouldn't mind, only he's so in the way. Cut it out, you know what? I never get a chance with her alone; Here you two sat on the parchments all morning and she didn't come down; and when she does, he takes me with you. At night you will all be there."

"Never mind! He'll be leaving soon; we're almost there."

"I'm very happy about that. I figured I'd better do without the four shades of gray if it's going to take much longer."

"Ah?"

“Oh, you know, governor; Make your way to Gretna Gray or wherever they do business and get it over with.”

"No no no no. It can't be nonsense, my boy," Walton said uneasily. "Don't rush things."

"Oh no, I'm not going to do anything rash," Claude said with an awkward grin; "You only have to make your hay when the sun is shining, Governor."

"There's one thing about his visit," Walton said hastily; “It has been very good for her; She's not like the same girl."

"NO; she came out happy. Makes it a little more bearable."

"Er, what, sir? – tolerable?”

"Yes. Fellow would like the prospect of some sugar or jam afterward to take such a sickly dose as she promised."

"Oh, nonsense, nonsense. But - uh - pay attention to what it's about; nothing rash.”

"I screwed my head right, boss. I can get along with a girl. I have to say, though, that old Graham was very taken with her; he has a way with himself. He can be wonderfully happy when he wants to.”

"Yes, wonderful," Walton said with a groan.

"You have no idea how he can leave when we're outside. He's full of great stories and funny while fishing or shooting like he's my age. Have you ever seen him jump?"

"What, run and jump?"

"Yah! When mounted. He drives great. Took Brown Charley like a bird over hedge after hedge yesterday. Understands a horse as well as I do. I like him and we keep swimming together; but we don't want him here now."

"Well, it won't be long before he's gone," Walton said, hurrying away with some papers he and Graham had been busy with all morning. "Where are you going this afternoon?"

"Drive. He wants to see Cross Gray's farm."

"Er?" said Walton, looking up sharply and a worried gleam in his eyes. "Did he say that?"

"Yes; and it starts right after lunch. But what was that letter about?"

"What letter?" said Walton, wincing nervously.

"Oh, I say; Don't jump like you thought the bailiffs were coming. I meant the one that was brought over from the train station half an hour ago.

"I didn't have a letter."

"Sam said one came. It must have been then for old Graham.”

"Am I interfering? Business?" said Graham, suddenly appearing at the door.

"Ah? NO; Come in. We only talked about ordinary things. Sit down. Lunch must be almost due. Do you want to talk with me?"

All of this in a nervous, hasty way.

"Lunch doesn't matter," Graham said quietly; "I want you to do me a favor, my dear James, by ordering that brown horse around."

Walton let out a relieved sigh and his face, which had previously turned ghostly, slowly returned to its natural color.

"But I found out from Claude that you're both going out after lunch."

"I've had a certain letter sent to me in a parcel and I need to drive over and wire it at length."

"We'll send Tom for you," said Claude; and then he felt like he would have given anything to retract the words.

"That's very kind of you," Graham said, smiling kindly, "but business is important. Obey me by ordering the horse immediately.”

"Oh, I'll walk around. Get Brown Charley here in five minutes.”

"Thank you, Claude; and maybe you'll give me a glass of sherry and a biscuit, James?"

"Yes yes of course; but you're coming back for dinner?"

"Of course. We have to finish what we're about."

"Yes, we have to finish what we're about," Walton said, scowling; and he rang the bell just as Claude passed the window on his way to the stables.

Fifteen minutes later Graham was galloping down the avenue just as the noon bell rang; and Claud winked at his father as they walked into the drawing room where his mother and Kate were sitting, giggling to himself as he thought of the long afternoon ahead of him.

"Oh I say boss, it's my turn now," he exclaimed as Walton walked over to his niece, smiling, and gave her his arm.

“All in good time, my boy; all in good time. You bring your mother with you. I don't understand why I should always stay in the background. Come with me, Kate, my dear; you gotta have me today

"Why, where's John Graham?" cried Mrs. Walton.

"Get on horseback, mother," Claude said, grinning. "I went to the train station to wire."

"Left without saying goodbye?"

“Oh, he's coming back, mother; but we can do without him for once. I say, "Kate, I want you to give me time for this horseback riding lesson this afternoon."

"Horse riding, my dear?"

"Yes, mother, riding. I'll teach Kitty some lessons about the little mare."

"No no; "Not this afternoon," the girl said nervously as they entered the dining room.

"Yes this afternoon. You have to take the plunge, and the sooner you do it the better.”

"Thank you; you are very good, but I wanted to read to my aunt."

“Oh, forget me, my love; You go with Claude. It will be a beautiful afternoon.”

"I'd prefer not to start yet," Kate said firmly.

"Go away," Claude called. "What a girl you are. You will come."

"I am sure that Claude will take the best care of you, my dear."

"Yes, Aunt, I'm sure he would; but classes will have to wait a while.”

"All right, Kitty. Then come by. I'll bring you a good round."

"I'd rather stay home this afternoon, Claude."

"Okay, then we'll go to the big pond and I'll teach you how to troll."

She turned to speak to her uncle to hide her anger, but Claude persevered.

"You're going to come, aren't you?" he said.

"Don't worry, your cousin, Claude, dear, if she'd rather not," said Mrs. Walton.

"Who's worrying her?" said Claude irritably. "I say Kate, tell me you're coming."

"I'd rather not do that today," she said quietly.

"Now you're starting to cry miserable again and I intend to stop. I'll tell you what; We will draw weapons and I will take you to the fir plantation.”

"No, no, my boy," Walton interjected. "Kate is not a boy."

"Who said it was her?" said the young man gruffly. "Can't a woman pull the trigger if she wants to?"

"I daresay she might, my dear," said Mrs. Walton; "But I'm sure I wouldn't want to do that. I've often heard your papa say how bad things are with guns."

"So do donkeys, mother," said Claude sullenly; “But I shouldn't put them on someone who does. You're coming, aren't you, dear?”

"No, Claude," Kate said very quietly and firmly. "I took no pleasure in destroying the life of a beautiful bird."

"Haha! I say we're nice. Then don't eat pheasant for dinner. There's a pair for tonight. Old Graham shot her – a cruel bastard.”

Kate looked at him in disgust and then began talking to her uncle, while her cousin fell into a sullen silence and began to eat, as if preparing for an impending famine, and his mother shook her head reproachfully every time she caught his eye.

When lunch was over Kate took her uncle's arm and walked him out onto the porch for a few minutes while the sun was shining, and as soon as they were out of earshot Claud turned fiercely to his mother.

"Why did you shake your head at me like that?" he cried. "You looked like a funny ancient Chinese character."

"Out of shame, my dear. Don't talk to me like that or I'll be very, very angry with you. And look, Claude, you mustn't be rude to your cousin. Girls don't like it."

"Oh, isn't it? Deal, you know about it.”

"And there's something else I want to tell you. If you want to win her over, you mustn't pay so much attention to this Miss Lewis."

"Who's looking after Miss Lewis?" said the young man angrily.

"You are my darling; you were quite flirty with her when she was here with her brother last night and I heard from one of the servants that you were spotted talking to her in Lower Lane on Monday. "

"Then it was a lie," he yelled sharply. “Tell them to mind their own business. Well look mother, you want me to marry Katey don't you?"

"Of course my dear."

"Then you keep your tongue still and your eyes closed. The governor will leave immediately and you will take her to the drawing room.”

"Yes, dear."

“Well, I'm not going out; I'm going to finish her up this afternoon, so slip away and give me my chance while there's one. I'm sick of waiting for old Graham to get out of the way."

"But I don't think I should do that, my dear."

"Then I will. Look, she knows what's coming and that's why she wouldn't date me, you know. It's all just ham to take me on. She's serious. You know what girls are. I want to forge while the iron is hot."

"But suppose-"

"I shall not suspect anything of the sort. She's just pretending. We understand each other with our eyes. I know what girls are; And you give me my chance this afternoon, and it's mine. She's just holding back a little, I'm telling you."

“Perhaps you are right, my dear; but don't hurt her feelings by being too hasty."

"Too much ham! You do as I say, and soon. I don't want old Graham back until this is all behind us. stay in the dark; here you come."

Kate came in with her uncle as soon as he spoke and Claude attacked her head on.

"Have you changed your mind?" he said.

"No, Claude; Please excuse me,” was the reply.

"All right. Off, father?"

"Yes, my boy. In about half an hour or so; I have to write two or three letters.”

"Two, three letters must be written!" murmured the young man as he went out onto the porch to light his pipe and watch for the coveted opportunity; "Don't you have a brain in your head?"

But James Walton's half-hour turned out to be an hour, and when the son, having said goodbye, returned to the hall, he heard voices in the sitting-room and growled violently.

"Why the hell isn't she going?" he mumbled.

The next moment there were footsteps and he retreated to the dining room to listen. The conversation revealed to him that his mother and cousin would go to the library to get a certain book.

There they remained, to the young man's great disgust, and he waited a full half hour, trying to control his temper and concoct a plan to get his mother away.

Finally she appeared, looking back and said loudly, "I'll be right back, my love," and closed the door.

Claude appeared at once, and with his mother's meaningful smile, she went to the stairs, while the son, as she climbed up to her room, went straight into the library and entered.

When he opened the door he found his cousin coming out of the room with a book in hand.

"Hello!" he wept with a peculiar laugh; "Where is the old lady?"

"She just went to her room, Claude," Kate said quietly.

"Here, don't hurry, little one," he called and pushed towards the door. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she said softly, though her heart was pounding; "I wanted to take my book into the living room."

"Oh, disturb the old books!" he yelled, grabbing hers and gripping her wrist; "Come and sit down; I want to talk to you."

"You can talk to me in the living room," she said, trying to stay firm.

"No, I can not do that; It's better here. I say, Kitty, when do you want it to be?”

"When will it be?"

"Our wedding. You know."

"Never," she said seriously, fixing his gaze.

"What?" he cried. "What nonsense! You know how I love you. I do, in my soul. I've never seen anyone do it to me like this."

"Do your mom and dad know you talk to me in that crazy way? You, my own cousin?” she said firmly.

"What do I care if they do it or not?" he said, laughing; "I was weaned a long time ago. I say don't stop me; Don't play with anyone like stupid girls do. I love you so much and always think of your beautiful eyes until I can't sleep for a night. It's all right that you're holding me back for a while, but that's enough and I know you like me."

"I tried to like you as my cousin," she said seriously.

"That's enough for a start," he replied, laughing; "But let's go on a little bit now, I say. Kitty, you're beautiful you know, and whenever I see you my heart beats terribly. I can't talk like some guys but I can love a girl with the best of them and I want you to ditch all the fleeting nonsense and now let's get on with it like engaged people."

“They talk randomly and about the unnatural and impossible. Please don't ever talk to me like that again, Claude; and now let go of my wrist and let me go."

“I'll probably say when I finally have you alone, don't bother me like that; it's so silly."

She tried bravely to hide the alarm she felt; and with a sudden jerk she freed her wrist and darted across the room.

The flight of the hunted always gives courage to the hunter, and in this case he leapt after her and in the next moment grabbed her around the waist.

"Got you!" he said laughing; “There's no point in fighting; I am twice as strong as you."

"Claud! How dare you?" she cried, eyes flashing.

"Because I love you, darling."

"Let go. It's an insult. It's a shame for me. You know what you're doing?"

"Yes; I will hug you tighter to kiss those pretty lips, cheeks and eyes - there and there and there!"

"If my uncle knew you had insulted me like that—"

"Call him; he's no more than two miles away."

"Aunt - aunt!" cried the girl excitedly and with hot, indignant tears welling up in her eyes.

"I'll lie down while I have a long, loving talk with you, darling. Ah, it's no use fighting. Do not be so stupid. You've fought long enough. All girls do the same because it is in their nature to deceive. There! now I am master; Give me a nice, pretty, long kiss, little future wife. I say kitty you are a beauty. Let's get married soon. You don't know how happy I'll make you."

Half mad with indignation and fear, she once again broke free and, not discerningly, ran to the fireplace to call for help. But before she could reach the bell, he slapped her hand sideways, hugged her tightly, and kissed her face once more.

This time a loud scream escaped her while she fought hard not to notice the next moment someone rushed into the room, felt himself being dragged away, and heard the word "Dog!" As it fell hard against her ear, there was a violent thump, a scraping noise, and the loud crack of breaking wood and glass.

Chapter Eleven.

"My poor dear child! – Keep still, you miserable dog, or I will half strangle you.”

The words - tender and gentle like a woman's voice, wild and loud like an angry man's voice - seemed to come out of a thick fog that made Kate feel terminally ill. Then she gradually became aware that she was being held tightly against the chest of someone who was breathing heavily from the exertion, her tousled hair being tenderly stroked and smoothed.

The next moment there was a wild scream and she recognized her aunt's voice as she clung, dizzy and exhausted, to whoever was holding her.

"What is it? What is it? Oh, Claude, darling! Help help help! He killed him—killed him."

"Here, what's going on? came from a distance. Then Kate heard her uncle's voice through the fog at close range. "What's all that, Maria - John Graham - Claud? Damn it, can't anyone speak? - Kate, what's that? "

"That," Graham called sternly. "I was just returning and heard screams pouring in here, just in time to save this poor, weak, suffering child from this young bully's brutal, abusive attack."

"He killed him. "James - he killed him," yelled Mrs. Walton. "Up, my poor dear boy!"

"Back, everyone. Go away,” Walton yelled as half a dozen servants rushed to the door, which he slammed in their faces and turned the key. "Now please let us know the truth," he cried heatedly. “Here, Kate, my dear; come to me."

She didn't answer, but Graham felt her cling to him tighter.

"Will anyone speak?" Walton called again.

'The Doctor - send for the Doctor; he's dead, he's dead,” wailed Mrs. Walton, who was now on her knees with her son's head in her lap; While Claude made no sign other than a slight tremor in his muscles that indicated he was trying to keep his eyes closed.

"He's not dead," Graham said coldly; "A crushing blow would not kill a villain of his caliber."

"Oh," cried Mrs. Walton, turning on him now in her motherly anger; "He confesses, he knocked him down - my poor, poor boy. James, why don't you send the police in immediately? The cruelty - the horror of it! Kate, Kate my dear, get away from the miserable one at once.

"Then you admit you hit him?" exclaimed Walton, his face now blackened with a passion that made him throw his cool head to the winds as he rose in rebellion against someone who had long been his master.

"Yes," Graham said calmly and without a trace of anger, although his tone was full of contempt; "I told you why."

"Yes, and by what right did you interfere? I suppose it's a silly romp related to love between boys and girls. How dare you intervene?”

"Boy and girl love!" cried Graham scornfully as he placed a hand on Kate's head and pressed her to his shoulder where she snuggled up and hid her face. “Shame on you both; it was a scandal!”

"Are we ashamed? What do you mean? What do you think? – Will you get away from him, Kate?”

"I mean it," Graham said, locking his arm tightly around the poor girl's waist, "that you and your wife have failed utterly in your duty to that poor suffering child."

"That's not true," exclaimed Mrs. Walton. “We treated her as if she were our own daughter; and my poor boy was telling me how much he loved her, and he had just come to talk to her a little. Oh, Claude, my darling! my precious boy!”

"Didn't I tell you that your darling—your precious boy—offended her badly? Shame on you woman,” Graham exclaimed. "It didn't take words from me to explain what happened. Your own wife's nature ought to have rebelled against such an insult to the feeble invalid entrusted to your care by her poor father's will.”

"Don't talk to my wife like that!" Walton shouted angrily.

“I will speak to your wife like this, and to you as well. I forgot to speak beforehand: I had no right; But do you think I was blind to the scandal that's going on here? The will gives you full responsibility for the poor child and his fortune, and what will I find when I come down? An insidiously cruel conspiracy to trap her - to force a connection with an unmannerly, brutally rude young scoundrel so that - for your own needs and purposes - he may rightfully take possession of the fortune and scatter it to the four winds . ”

"It's a lie - it's a lie!" Walton roared.

"It's the truth, sir. Your wife's words just confirmed what I'd noticed over and over again, to the point of sinking to the core at being forced to accept the hospitality of such people while brooding over my own powerlessness, my helplessness when I wanted to intervene , crooked. You know - she knows - how I've been silent. I have not addressed a single word of warning to them. She must have seen and felt what had hatched, but neither she nor I could have guessed that the cowardly young fellow lying there would have dared insult a weak, gentle girl whose outward appearance deserved the respect and protection of a man. A lie? It's the truth, James Walton."

"Oh, my poor, poor boy!" wailed Mrs. Walton; "And I begged and prayed you not to be too hasty."

"Are you going to shut up, woman?" Walton yelled.

"Yes, for heaven's sake shut up, ma'am," cried Graham; "There was no need for you to confirm my words and humiliate yourself further in your poor niece's eyes."

"Look here," called Walton, pacing behind the library table, doubled over under his attorney's tongue; “It's all a bit nonsense; I assume the dumb guy grabbed a kiss.

"Grabbed a kiss!" Graham exclaimed scornfully. "Look at her: she's shaking with horror and outrage."

"I won't look at her. They won't talk to me like that in my own house."

"Your own house!" said Graham scornfully.

"Yes; mine, until the law makes me give it up. I won't have it. It's my house and I won't stand here and let any man bully me."

"Oh don't do that, don't make that worse, James," Mrs. Walton whined. “Send for the doctor; his heart is still beating.”

"Shut up and don't make things worse," her husband yelled. "As for him - curse him! - it's all his fault."

"But he's lying here unconscious and you're not going to send for help."

"No, I will not. Do you think I want Lewis and his sister and then the whole community to know what's going on? The servants will talk enough.”

"But he's dying, James."

"You said he was just dead. Pour some cold water on the idiot and bring him to you. Damned! I'd like to whip him!"

"You should have done it many times years ago," Graham said bitterly. "It's too late now."

"Mind your own business," Walton called, turning to face him. "I can't talk like you, but I can say what I mean, like this: I'm still the master here and I won't be able to bear it anymore. I don't care about your certificates and documents. I don't want you here to insult me ??and my wife, and besides, we'll see what the law can do if you've wronged that boy. You will suffer just like me. Well then: away with you; Pack up and go, and I'll show you that the law protects me just as it protects you. Kate, my girl, you need not be afraid. Come to me."

The tighter she clung to her protector.

"Then come to your aunt," Walton said grimly. "Get up, Maria," he called. "Can't you see I want you here?"

"Get up? Oh, James, James, I can't leave my boy."

"Get up before you make me angry," he yelled. “Well, Kate, come here; and I'm telling you, John Graham. I'll give you fifteen minutes and if you don't leave then the men will kick you out."

"What!" cried Graham sternly as he straightened up. "Go and leave this poor girl here at your tender mercy?"

"Yes; go and leave 'this poor girl', as you call her, to my tender mercy."

"I can't; I won't," Graham said firmly.

"But I say you will do it, Mr. Attorney. You know enough about such things to feel like you have to. Curse you and your interference. Kate, my dear, I am the executor and guardian of your poor dead father.”

"Yes, it's true," Graham said bitterly. "Poor fellow, it was the only flaw in a good, true life. He had faith in his brother.”

"More than he had in you," Walton exclaimed. "Do you hear what I'm saying, Kate? Don't show your aunt and me the stupid folly of this boy whose sin is that he loves you very much and scared you with a little love making.”

"Loving game!" cried Graham scornfully.

“Yes, my dear, loving game. I vouch for that, and so does his mother.”

"Yes, yes, yes, Kate, dear. He loves you. He told me so, and if he was wrong, poor poor boy, see how he was punished.”

"There, my dear, do you hear?" Walton called, trying to speak to her gently and winningly, but failing miserably. "Come to your aunt now."

"Yes, Kate, darling, do it, please, and help me bring him around. You don't want to watch him lay a corpse at the feet of his grieving mother?"

"Come here, Kate," Walton called out fiercely. "Aren't you making me angry? I am your guardian and you must obey me. Get away from that man.”

She shuddered and began to sob violently.

"Ah, that's better. You are now coming to your senses and seeing things in the right light. Well, John Graham, you heard what I said - go.

"Yes, my child," Graham said, taking one of Kate's hands and gently bringing it to his lips, "your uncle is right. I have no place or right to protect you here, and I must go, trusting that good can come from evil, and that what has happened opens your eyes not only to a thorough conspiracy, but to you also gives strength to protect themselves, and teach them that such a project as theirs is a disgrace."

"Don't stand there preaching, man. Your time is almost up. Go before you are made. Come to your aunt, Kate."

"No, my dear, don't do anything like that," Graham said softly as she slowly lifted her head and looked into his face pleadingly. "You're just a girl, but you have to play the woman now - the steadfast, strong woman who needs to protect herself. Go to your room and insist on staying there until you have a guarantee that this impudent boy lying here pretending to be callous will give up his pretensions or be sent away. There, go, and heaven protect you; That's all I can do."

Kate sat up and looked at him sadly for a few moments, then said firmly:

'Yes, Mr Graham, I will do as you say. Good bye."

"Goodbye," he said, leaning down and kissing her forehead gently. Then she resolutely left the room.

"Brave girl!" said Graham; "It will suit you and your plans now, James Walton."

"You want to go, sir?" the other yelled.

"Yes, I will go. Then there will be war between us, won't there?"

"Whatever you want; I'm being ruthless now; but you can't bother me there."

“No, and I will not trample a worm when it is down. I will take no petty revenge, and you dare not pursue this poor girl. Goodbye you two and may this be a lesson to you and your stupid wife. As for you, friend, if I hear you've insulted your cousin again - a girl who anyone with the slightest right to a man would have considered a sister - law or not, then I'll come down and crush you to the last inch of your life. As you know, I am still a strong man.”

He turned and walked proudly out of the room; and as soon as his footsteps had stopped sounding on the oak floor of the hall, Walton turned angrily to his son, who lay on the thick Turkish carpet, and roared:

"Stand up!"

Mrs Walton screamed and grabbed her husband's leg but in vain as he gave the prostate youth a violent kick that brought him to his senses with a scream.

"What are you doing?" he yelled.

"One hundred and fifty thousand pounds!" cried Walton. "Curse you, I'd like to give you a hundred and fifty thousand of that."

Within half an hour the dog cart carrying John Graham and his suitcase was scrambling along the gravel driveway and as it passed the opposite wing he was looking up at an open window where Kate stood pale and unmoving.

He lifted his hat to her as he passed, but she didn't move, only said goodbye to him with her eyes.

But as the vehicle disappeared into the trees of the avenue, she recoiled, thinking of her position, of Graham's words, and of how it felt now that her girl's life had ended that day. For she felt that she was alone and that from now on she had to band together to fight the fight of her life, strong in her feminine defenses, for her future depended entirely on herself.

And as she sat the rest of that unfortunate afternoon and evening, resisting all summonses to come down and taking nothing but a little refreshment brought to her by her maid, she kept trying to solve the problem before her:

What should she do now?

chapter twelve.

Kate wasn't the only one at the Manor House who declined to come to dinner.

The bell had rung, and after Mrs. Walton had twice been in her niece's room and told her master of the poor success of her visits, Walton growled:

"Well, I want my dinner. Let her stay and starve until she comes to her senses. But here,” he cried with a new outburst of anger, “why the hell isn't this boy here?” I don't keep him waiting. Do you hear? Where is he?"

"He was so ill, dear, that he said he had to go upstairs and lie down."

"Bah! Garbage! He wasn't hurt."

"Oh my dear, you don't know," Mrs. Walton sobbed.

"Yah! You cry when you dare. Wipe your eyes. Do you think I couldn't have worried enough today without you trying to spread the dust? Call and tell Samuel to get him down .”

“Oh, please don't do that, dear; The servants will talk enough as it is.

"That would be better. I will unload everything. So far I've been too loose with everyone, and I'm starting to turn over a new leaf. Stand aside, madam, and let me get to the bell.

"No, no, don't, please don't ring. Let me go up and ask him to come down."

"What! Request? Go upstairs and tell him I'll fetch him with a horse whip if he doesn't come down, trembling to supper."

"James my dear, pray, pray, don't be so violent."

“But I will be violent. I'm not in the mood to be forced into anything right now. I will let some of you see that I am the master.”

"But poor dear Claude is so big now."

"I don't care how big he is - a big dumb chump! Go and tell him what I say. And look, woman.”

"Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Walton plaintively.

"I mean it. If he doesn't come right away, no matter how big he is, I'll take the whip."

Mrs. Walton stifled a sob, went into her son's room and entered. There he lay on his bed, his boots resting on the lower rail, a strong smell of tobacco hung in the room and a spot or two of cigar ash soiled the bedspread.

"Claud, my love, you shouldn't smoke up here," she said tenderly, putting her hand on her son's forehead. "How are you now, darling?"

"Damn bad."

"Oh, it's not that bad, love. Dinner is ready."

"-The dinner!"

"Claud, darling, don't use such horrible language. But please get up now and let me brush your hair. Your father is so angry and violent because you make him wait. Please come down immediately.”

"Not!"

"Claud, love, you shouldn't say that. Please come down.”

"I won't do that, I'm telling you. Go away and don't disturb me."

"I'm so sorry, my love, but I have to. He sent me up, love.”

"I - won't - come down. There!"

"But Claude, my dear, he's so angry. I dare not go without you. What can I say?"

"Tell him I say he's an old beast."

"Oh, Claude, I can't tell him that. You shouldn't – you really shouldn't.”

"I'm too bad to eat."

"Yes yes; I know darling, but why don't you try to come down and have a glass of wine. It will do you good and keep poor papa from getting so violent."

"I don't want wine. And I won't come. There!"

"Oh my God! Oh, my dear!” sighed Mrs. Walton; "What should I do?"

"Go and tell him I'm not coming. Bad enough getting hit by that hideous old prizefighter without him kicking me. I'm not a doormat."

“No, no, my dear; of course not."

"An old fellow! I think he injured my liver.”

"Claud, my love, please don't say that."

"Why not? The doctor should be called; I'm in terrible pain."

“Yes, yes, my dear; and it seemed very difficult to me.”

"Hard? I should think it was. I'm sure there's a broken rib, if not two."

"Oh, my dear boy!" exclaimed Mrs. Walton, hugging him.

“Don't do it, mother; you hurt. Go away and leave me alone. Tell him I won't come.

“No, no, my dear; Pray, strive and come down.”

"I won't do that, I'm telling you. Now go!"

"But - but - Claud dear, he threatened to show up with a horse whip and get you."

"What!" cried Claude, jumping onto the bed without flinching and staring at his mother; "Did he say that?"

"Yes, my dear," faltered the mother.

"Then you go down and tell him to come and I'll cut off his old head."

"Oh, Claude, my dear boy, you shouldn't. I can't sit here and listen to such patricidal speeches."

"Then get up and go now."

"But, darling, will you come?"

"No, I will not."

"Because of me?"

“I won't do it, for myself. I won't take it. He shouldn't bully me and knock me out. I'm not a boy anymore. I'll show him."

"But, Claude, darling, for the sake of peace and quiet; I don't want the servants to know."

But dear Claud - his mother's darling - was now just as adamant as his father, whom he loudly condemned, then peace and quiet, then servanthood, and vowed he would owe Kate for causing the trouble.

"I'll bring her to her knees - I'll tame her and make her beg for a kiss next time."

"Yes, yes, my dear, you shall, but not now. You have to be humble and patient.”

"Are you coming down, Maria?" rose with a wild roar.

"Yes, yes, my dear, right there," cried the trembling woman. "There you are, darling. He is in a terrible rage. Come down with me.”

"I won't, I'm telling you," the young man cried, reaching for the pillow to scoop it up menacingly in his hands; "Go tell him what I said."

"Maria! Shall I come up?” rose up roaring.

"Yes-no-no, my dear," cried Mrs. Walton. "I - I'm coming down."

She hurried out of the room, dabbing her eyes hastily, and went down to where the squire was pacing up and down the hallway, with Samuel, the cook, the maid, and the kitchen maid huddled behind the swinging door that had cut off the hallway servants' offices and listened to every word of social comedy.

"Well," roared Walton, "is he coming?"

"Nn-not right now my D-love. He feels so sick and devastated that he asks you to excuse him."

"Humor, woman! My boy could not have dreamed up such a message. He said he wouldn't do it, right? Well then; no excuses. That's what he said."

"Y-yes, my dear," the mother faltered. "Oh, James, love, pray - pray don't do it."

She clung to him, but he shook her off, went to the umbrella stand, grabbed a hunting whip that hung by a twisted strap, and stomped up the stairs while his trembling wife followed, sobbing and begging him not to be violent; But it was all in vain, for he turned at the top of the old oak staircase and trudged to the door of his son's bedroom - the door at the end of the wing that matched Kate's bedroom.

Here, in a hasty whisper, Mrs. Walton made a final appeal.

"He's so bad - he says he broke his ribs from the kick."

"Bah!" roared the landowner; "He has no ribs on his hind legs - Here you are, Claude; Come down straight to dinner or - Here, unlock this door."

He rattled the handle and then pounded and pounded in vain, while Mrs. Walton, who had almost cried out in terror, began to breathe more freely.

"I thought you said he was laying down, too bad to get up?"

"Yes, yes, darling, he is," the poor woman faltered.

"Seems so. May lock himself in. Here, sir; come down."

But there was no answer; no sound in answer to his rattling and banging; And finally, at the height of his anger, the squire retreated to the opposite wall to gather strength and kick his foot through the paneling if he could, but just then Eliza opened Kate's door at the far end of the long corridor , and peered out.

That ended the disruption.

"Come to dinner, Maria," said the landowner.

"Yes, my dear," she faltered, and they went down to dinner alone, Mrs. Walton drank water, her husband mostly wine, and hardly a word was spoken, for the head of the house was very quiet and thoughtful in the silence that followed the storm.

Just as the untasted pheasants were being taken away, Walton suddenly said to the footman after the second course:

"Tell Miss Kate's maid to come here."

Mrs. Walton looked at her husband in wonder, but he sat crumbled his bread and sipped his red wine until the quiet, grave, elderly servant appeared.

"How is your mistress?" he said.

"Very unwell, sir."

"Do you think the doctor needs to be called?"

"Well, no, sir, I hardly think so. She was very excited.”

"Yes, of course; "Poor girl," Walton said softly.

"But I think she'll be better after a good night's sleep, sir."

"So am I, Eliza. You will of course see that she has everything she wants.”

"Oh yes sir. I bought her something for dinner, but I couldn't get her to touch it."

"Hmph! I guess not. That's enough, thanks. – No, no, Maria, there is no need to say more.”

Mrs. Walton's mouth was open to speak, but she quickly shut it again, afraid of starting another storm, and the maid left the room. But the mother would speak up as soon as they were alone.

"I would like to order a tray of one of the pheasants to be sent up to Claude, dear."

"I think so," he replied. "Well, I shouldn't."

"May I send for Doctor Lewis?"

"What for? Did you hear what the woman said?"

"I meant for Claude, dear."

"Oh, I'll take care of him in the morning. I'll have a pill ready for him when I've cooled down. Then it will not be so strong.”

"But, James, darling—"

"All right, old lady, I'll calm down now; but listen to me I mean it like this: You can't go into his room tonight."

"James!"

"Not to Kate's until I go with you."

"My dear James!"

'I am,' he said with a faint smile, 'and you are a very good, loving, well-meaning old lady; But if ever there was someone who always got her husband in trouble, it's you."

"Really sweet!" she cried pleadingly.

"Yes, really. That's enough. Ready for dinner?”

"Yes dear."

"Don't you want cheese or dessert?"

"No, love."

"Let's go then. You will sit with me in the library tonight and have your cup of tea there.”

"Yes, darling, but can't I just go and see poor Kate?"

"NO."

The word was said softly but with enough emphasis to silence the weak woman who sat gazing beseechingly at her husband, whom she humbly enough followed into the library where she worked and later sipped her tea while he smoked and thoughtfully he gazed into the fire, reviewing the events of the day and, to do him justice, bitterly regretting many things he had said. But as time passed, he felt the urgency of his position and the need to meet the demands that would soon be made of him, and he grew by the minute more stubborn and determined to carry out his plans with respect to his Ward.

"He's just a little boy," he said to himself, "and he has a good heart. I don't think I was much better off when I was his age, and besides being a bit arbitrary, I'm not such a bad husband after all."

At that moment he looked up at his wife, just in time to see her bow gently to him. However, knowing from past experience that this was not consent, he glanced at his watch and waited a few minutes. During this time Mrs. Walton nodded several times and finally dropped her work onto her lap.

This woke her up and she sat up looking very serious and like the last thing to do was to fall asleep with so much trouble on the way. But nature was very strong, and the desire for sleep stronger than the sorrow from which it suffered; and she was just dozing off again when her husband rose suddenly to ring the bell, the servants came in, prayers were read, and a few minutes after ten Walton took a candlestick and led him to sleep.

He turned away, however, motioned to Mrs. Walton to follow him, and when he reached his niece's room he knocked softly on the door.

"Kate - Kate, my dear," he said, and Mrs. Walton looked at him in surprise.

"Yes, uncle."

"How are you now, my child?"

"Not very well, Uncle."

"I'm very sorry, my dear. Can your aunt get you something?”

"No thanks."

"Then I wish you a good night. I am very sorry about the surprise this afternoon. – Come, my love.”

"Good night, Kate, my dear," said Mrs. Walton, her ear against the blackboard; "I hope you can sleep."

"Good night, aunt," said the girl quietly; and they went back to their own door.

"Won't you come and say 'good night' to poor Claude, dear?" whispered Mrs. Walton.

"No, poor Claude has to come to me first. – Go in.”

He held the door open for his wife to come in, then followed her and locked it, and the mansion was very quiet for several hours.

The next morning James Walton was out a few hours before breakfast, bustling about his home farm as if nothing had happened at all and there was no fear of foreclosure as a result of an action by John Graham. A little later than usual he was ready for breakfast again, when Mrs. Walton bustled in to unlock the tea caddy, and he nodded and said, rather brusquely:

"Claud not down?" he said.

"No darling; I saw you coming through the garden just as I was about to go to his room to see how he was."

"Oh, Samuel" - to the man who came in with a bowl and hot plates - "go tell Mr Claude we're waiting for breakfast."

The man left.

"Let me go, my dear. Poor boy! He must be a bit reluctant to come and see you this morning.”

"Poor chap! He's always suffered from that kind of shy flinching," Walton said wryly. How is Kate?”

“I don't know, my dear; Eliza said she had been in her room twice, but was apparently sound asleep and didn't want to disturb her.

"Hmph! I will be glad if she can come to her meals regularly.”

"What should you tell her this morning?"

"Wait - well, is he coming down?"

"Beg your pardon, sir," said the footman. "I've been knocking on Mr. Claude's door for so long and I haven't gotten an answer."

Mrs. Walton's hand released the teapot's faucet and the boiling water began to pour over the top of the pot.

"Hmph! Sulky," Walton murmured, "Eh? What are you staring at?"

"I'm sorry sir, but he didn't put his boots outside last night and he never took his hot water with him."

"Oh, James, James!" Mrs. Walton exclaimed wildly, "I knew it, I knew it. I've been dreaming about the black cow all last night and there's something wrong."

"Hold on a second, I'm coming," Walton said quickly, a startled expression crossing his face.

"Take me - take me too," his wife sobbed. "Oh, my poor boy! If something happened to him during the night. I will never forgive myself. Samuel—Samuel!”

"Yes Ma'am."

"Run to the stables and send one of the men to Doctor Lewis at once."

Walton was too startled to reply, but before the man had gone a dozen paces he called out to him.

"Tell the gardener to get a hammer and cold chisel from the tool shed."

"Yes sir," and in a state of excitement the man ran off while his master and wife rushed upstairs to their son's door. But before they reached it, Walton had regained his calm.

"What nonsense," he murmured. Then softly: “Here, talk to him. Soft. Just overslept.”

He typed and motioned to his wife.

But her voice was filled with excitement as she said:

"Claud, my dear; it's getting very late." Then louder: "Claud! Claude, my dear, are you not well?" Then in a pained voice: "Claud! Claude, my darling! Oh pray pray talk to me or you will break my poor heart!”

"Here, step aside," Walton called, now terrified. He grabbed the handle of the door, turned it and tried to force it open, but in vain. The next moment he wanted to put his shoulder close to the keyhole when Kate's maid came running towards them.

"Mrs. Walton! Mrs. Walton!' She wept; "Pray, pray, come! My dear young lady! Oh help, help! I should have spoken earlier. What should I do?"

Chapter Thirteen.

Walton Pere and Mere hadn't been gone five minutes when there was a soft knock on Kate's door and she winced and turned her anxious face that way, but didn't answer. The typing was repeated

"Miss Kate," came in a sharp whisper; "It's just me, my dear."

"Ah," the girl sighed, relieved; And she almost ran to the door, turned the key and let the old servant in, locked the door again and threw her arms around the woman's neck to bury her face in her chest and sob like her heart was breaking.

"There, there, there," the woman cooed, as if to address the small child she had nursed many years ago; and she gently led them to a couch, and drew down the wine girdle which lay half upon her breast. "Then cry, my darling; it will do you good; and then you have to tell Lisa all about it – what's up, dear?”

"Object!" exclaimed Kate, starting up and glaring at the woman's face. "Liza, it's terrible. Why did I ever come into this awful house?”

“Hush, hush, my own; You will obsess over yourself again. We must not make you sick.”

"Bad - ill?" exclaimed Kate. "Better dead and at rest. I hate him! I hate him! How dare he touch me like that! It was awful – a scandal!”

The woman's face flushed and her eyes blazed with anger, then her lips moved as if to ask, but she closed them tightly in a thin line and waited, knowing from past experience that it wouldn't be long before her young Mistress would experience grief and anger would be poured into his ear.

She said nothing, and while holding the excited girl in her arms, she slowly began to rock back and forth.

"No no! "Don't do it," Kate cried morosely, raising her head again, looking more beautiful than ever in her anger and indignation. "I'm not a child anymore. Aunt and uncle encouraged it. This hateful money is at the bottom of it all. You want me to marry him. Bah! he makes me shiver in disgust. And with all these terrible problems that are so new, how could I even imagine such a horror?”

Eliza half-closed her eyes and nodded her head while her mouth seemed to almost disappear.

"It's cruel - it's awful," Kate continued. “They encouraged it all along. Even the aunt with her sickly devotion to her miserable spoiled boy. Oh, what a poor, pathetic, weak creature she must have held me. No one but Mr Graham seemed to understand me.”

Eliza frowned a little when she heard his name, but she said nothing, and little by little she realized everything that had happened; and then Kate, weak and weary, bowed her head until her forehead rested again on her breast, where she had so often sunk to rest.

"Oh, the hateful money!" She sighed as the tears finally came. "Let him have it. What's my business? But I can't stop here, sister; it's impossible. We must go at once. Uncle is my guardian, but he certainly cannot force me to stay against my will. If "If I stayed here it would kill me. Sister," she called out with a determination the woman had never seen her do before, "You must pack what is necessary, and tomorrow we will go." staying in a hotel until we found a place - a furnished cottage just big enough for the two of us somewhere so we can be at peace - then we might be happier - why don't you talk to me if I can comfort you in my troubles?"

"Because none of my words could give you the comfort you need, my love. Don't you know that my heart bleeds for you and that whenever my poor dear child has suffered, I have suffered too?"

"Yes, yes, dear; I know,” Kate said, lifting her face to kiss the woman passionately. "I know. Don't pay attention to what I say. All of this has made me so angry, like I hate the whole world."

"Don't I know my darling too well to memorize a few hasty words?" said the woman softly. "Say what you want. When it's angry, I know it's just coming from the lips, and there's always something in my sweetheart's heart."

"It's good for me, sister," the girl said, clinging to her affectionately for a few moments, then sitting up again to speak in a firm voice. "It makes me feel like I'm not alone and that my dear, dead mother was right when she said, 'Never part with Eliza.' She is not our servant; She has always been our loyal, humble and trustworthy friend.'”

The woman's face softened now and a few tears ran down her cheeks.

"Now we must talk and make our plans, sister. I wish I could see Mr Graham and ask his advice.”

"Do you like Mr. Graham, dear?" said the woman softly.

"Yes; he's a gentleman. He seems like the only one who can talk to me as I am and without thinking about what they call me - an heiress."

"But the poor gentleman never trusted Mr. Graham."

"Maybe he had no reason to. He always treated him like a friend and he showed himself as such today by the brave way he defended me and raised his voice to open my eyes to all of these wrongdoings."

"But the dear Lord did not make him his executor."

"How could he when he had to think of his brother? How could my dear father have guessed that Uncle James would prove so vile? There was an error. You should have heard Mr Graham speak today.”

Eliza sighed.

"I don't think I should put all my trust in Mr. Graham, dear," she said.

"Isn't that a prejudice, sister?"

“I hope not, my dear; But my heart was never warm to Mr Graham, and it was always very cold to this young man, his stepson.”

"Harry Duncan? "Well," Kate said with a faint smile, "maybe mine was just as cold. But why should we worry about it? It wouldn't hurt if I asked Mr. Graham for advice; but if we don't like it, sister, we can take our own. One thing we decide immediately: we will leave here.”

"Can we, my dear? You have money, but—”

"Oh, don't talk about the despicable," the girl cried passionately.

"I have to, my dear. We can't even take a cottage without it. This money is in the care of your uncle; As an underage girl, you mustn't touch a penny without your uncle James' consent.”

"But surely he can't keep me here against my will - as a prisoner?"

"I don't know, my dear," the woman said with a sigh.

"Then we need help and advice here - that's where Mr Graham could help me and tell me what to do."

Eliza sighed.

"Well, if the worst comes to the worst, I can find a humble job of housekeeping and chores to help while I go out every day as a governess."

"You! A daily governess?"

"Well," said the girl proudly, "I can play - brilliantly, they say - I know three languages ??and -"

"You have one hundred and fifty thousand pounds yourself."

'What's one hundred and fifty thousand pounds for a wretched prisoner being pursued? Freedom is worth millions, and come what may, I will be free.”

“Yes, you shall be free, darling; but you must not do anything rash. Today has taught me that my dear girl is a woman of firmness and spirit; and, please God, everything will be fine in the end. That's enough. You are restless and feverish now, and tender as you are, you need rest. It's getting late. I'll help you undress for a restful, late night. sleep on it, my child; Out of evil will come good and you have shown them that they are not dealing with a baby but with a real woman so things are not as bad as they seem. Come, my little one.”

"I must and will leave here, sister," Kate said firmly.

"Sleep on it, my child, and remember that you finally won the day. Come on, let me help you."

"No, Liza, go now. I need to sit and think for a while.”

"Better sleep and think after a long break."

"No, dear; I want to sit here in stillness and stillness first. Look, the moon rises above the trees and seems to bring light to my tired brain. I am going to bed soon. Please do as I wish and leave me now - sister my dear, do you think those who are gone will ever come back in spirit to help us when we are in need?"

"Heaven only knows, my darling," said the woman, startled. "But please don't talk like that – you really want me to go?"

"Yes, leave me now. I'll make my plans for tomorrow."

"Morning."

"No, before I lie down to rest. Good night."

“You are the mistress and I am the servant, my child. Then good night – good night.”

"Good night," Kate said, and a minute later she had closed and re-bolted the door and turned to stare at the window, whose blinds were bathed in the soft silver light of the slowly rising moon.

chapter fourteen.

"Who is the letter from, Pierce?"

"One of the medical brokers, as they call themselves—the man to whom I wrote;" and the young doctor tossed the letter scornfully across the breakfast table to his sister, who eagerly picked it up and read it through.

"Of course," she cried, with flushed, small, round cheeks and a bright, mocking look in her eyes; "And I totally agree with him. He says you are too humble and reserved about your practice; that the mere fact that it has been established for so many years makes it valuable; that no one would take it on the terms you proposed and that you must ask for at least five hundred pounds, which is value plus an appraisal of the furniture. How much did you charge?"

"Nothing at all."

"What!" Jenny cried, dropping her bread and butter.

"I said I was willing to give the apartment to any enterprising young practitioner who would take the house and furniture from me."

"Oh, you goose - I mean gander!"

"Thanks Sissy."

"Well, you are - a dear, dear, silly old brother," the girl cried, jumping up and standing behind the young doctor's chair, covering his eyes with her hands and resting her small, soft, white double chin on his head. "There you are! Blind as a bat! Five hundred pounds! Phew! Trash! Stuff! It's worth thousands and thousands and what's more, lucky for my own old Pierce."

"I thought the subject was taboo, Sissy."

"I don't care; I broke the taboo. I rose up in rebellion and will fight for my principles until I die."

"Brave little baby," he said mockingly as he took his little hands from his eyes and cupped them.

"Yes," she said meaningfully, "braver than you think."

"Jennie! You didn't dare to talk about something like that?” he yelled, turning angrily at her.

"Not a bit silly," she replied. "What! make her duck her horns, shut up in her shell and think my dear boy is a miserable money hunter? I certainly don't. Shame, sir, to think such a thing of me! I didn't even tell her what a dear good fellow you are, worrying to death to keep me and taking me to the country thinking I'd ache and grow pale in ugly old Westminster and its slums."

"That's right," Pierce said with a weak sigh.

“Let them find out naturally what you are; And she finds out, because make no mistake about it, Miss Katherine Walton is young, but she has a great deal of shrewd common sense, I soon found out, and little as I have seen of her, I soon saw her embrace her position was quite aware. Sensible girls who have fortunes are quick to sense people's motives; And if you think you're going to marry her to this outdoor sport right away, Claude, you've made a big mistake."

"But you didn't dare to talk to her about your stupid ideas, Jenny?"

"Not a word. Oh, shy, unassuming frere! When we went there to dinner I put on my best dress and manners and was as nice and ladylike as a girl could be. Reward: - Kate was mine instantly done and we became friends.”

Lewis sighed in relief.

"But if I had dared, I could have told her what a coward you are and how ashamed I am of you."

"For not playing the part of a despicable schemer, sister?"

"Who wants you to do that, sir? Money has nothing to do with it. Now answer that for me, Pierce. If she were only Miss Walton penniless, wouldn't you propose to her at once?"

“No, sister; I would not."

"You wouldn't do that?"

"No, I would not be so scornful as to take such a step when I am little better than a pauper."

"Boo! What nonsense. You are poor! An educated gentleman who is known to be talented in his job. But I know that if you had an income, you would marry her tomorrow and send your poor little sister out. Trouble with income and money! It's all horrible and causes all the misery there is in the world. Pierce, you shouldn't run away from here and leave the poor girl to marry off to that miserable boy."

"Jenny, dear, be serious. I really need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

"Oh Pierce! Don't talk about it, dear. It's all about making yourself unhappy with these silly notions of honor; and it's supposed to make me miserable too, just when I'm so well and so happy and all that nasty London cough is gone. I declare that if you take me with you, I will wither and die.”

"No, you won't, Sissy. You can't do that with your own smart specialist by your side," he said cheerfully.

"Not if you could help it, I know. But Pierce, darling, don't be such a coward. It's cruel for them to run away and leave them defenseless."

"Shut your mouth!" said Lewis firmly. "I tell you, this is all your imagination."

"And I'll tell you, it's a fact I've seen and heard enough. Old Walton is very poor and wants to save his family's money. Mrs. Walton is just the old cat whose paws he uses as pliers. As for Claude - Ugh! I could really enjoy life if I slapped him in the face. Now look, big boy," Jenny yelled, impulsively grabbing the agent's letter, "I'm going to burn this, because you're not going to go away and make yourself a medical martyr just because the loveliest girl in the world — who you already because of Her sincere, masculine demeanor towards her likes - happens to have a fortune, and her practice is also beginning to improve.”

"My practice is beginning to improve!" he cried scornfully.

“Yes sir, improve yourself; Didn't you have a broken boy to heal yesterday? And don't you have a chance at the parish practice, which costs twenty pounds a year? and oh, hooray, hooray! I'm so glad someone's sick at the Manor again. I hope it's Clodpole Claud this time," and she danced wildly across the room, waving the letter over her head before stopping by the fire, tossing the paper in and flopping into a chair, looking demure and solemn like a nun.

Tom Jonson, the manor's stable boy, had driven the dog cart over, stopped briefly, and rang the bell loudly.

Lewis blanched, for the man's behavior betrayed an emergency and he could only relate this to the patient to whom he had been called earlier.

"Would you please come over immediately, sir?"

"Miss Walton worse?"

"Oh no sir. There's something wrong with the young master.” Lewis sighed with relief and stepped back to get his hat.

"Mr. Walton, junior, has fallen ill, dear," he said. "I heard it, Pierce. Kill him or put him into consumption.”

chapter fifteen.

Lewis scarcely heard his sister's words as he rushed out and jumped into the dog cart, where the groom was full of the day's cares and ready to relate to unwilling ears what he had heard from Samuel, who knew that Mr. Graham, The solicitor from London punched the young master for money, he thought, and heard Mr Claude say something about his father kicking him.

"Missus wanted to send for you last night, sir, but the Master wouldn't, and this morning they couldn't have him heard in his room. Poor chap, I assume he is very poor.”

The man would have gone on talking, but noticing that his companion was quiet and thoughtful, he lapsed back into a one-sided conversation with the horse he was driving, telling him, "Come here," "Look alive," and "Be steadfast" until He turned into the avenue and galloped to the hall door.

Mrs. Walton was there, weeping and trembling.

"Oh, hurry up, Mr. Lewis," she called. "How long have you already been!"

“I came at once, my lady; is your son in his room?”

"Yes, yes - dead now. Pray, come up."

He jumped up the stairs in a very unprofessional manner, forgetting that a doctor must be absolutely calm and composed, and Walton met him on the landing.

“Oh, here you are. Haven't opened the door yet. Curse the old wood! It's like iron. Maria, go and get all the keys you can find.”

"Yes, my dear, but while the men are doing that, shouldn't we try to open poor Claude's door?"

"No, hers first," Walton called out and Lewis flinched.

"I understood it was your son who needed help," he said.

"Don't bother about him one bit. You must see my niece first.” and in a few seconds Lewis was in possession of the fact that the maid had failed to make her mistress heard; that since then they had received no answer to constant shouting and knocking and the door had resisted all attempts to open it.

When Lewis reached the end of the corridor, Lewis found the maid, white and trembling, her apron pressed tight to her lips, while the servant and two gardeners, having littered the floor with unnecessary tools, were now attempting to chisel a hole to drill large enough to accept the point of a saw and cut around the lock.

"Wood is like iron, sir," said the gardener who did the work.

"But wouldn't it be easier to put a ladder by the window and break a pane of glass?" said Lewis impatiently.

"Oh God!" exclaimed Walton, "who would be surrounded by such a group of fools! come along Naturally. Here, one of you, go and get a ladder.”

The second gardener hurried down the back steps while his master went forward and let Mrs. Walton and the maid knock on the bedroom door.

"Oh, please speak, sweetheart," Mrs. Walton sobbed. "If it's just a word to let us know you're alive."

"Oh, please don't say that, ma'am," the maid sobbed. "My poor dear young mistress! What am I supposed to do – what am I supposed to do?”

Mrs. Walton made no answer, but now, free of her husband's compulsiveness, she hurried down the corridor to the other wing to knock on her son's door, and then got on her knees, put her lips to the keyhole, and begged to speak to him inside.

"What a bunch of fools," Walton growled; "And I was just as bad, doctor. In the rush and excitement that never crossed my mind. You see, you're cool and ready to take it all in. Poor girl, she was a bit upset yesterday and I suppose it was too much for her. Boys are boys and I had a fight with my son.”

This in a confidential whisper as they crossed the hall, but Lewis scarcely heard him in his fear, and as they fainted and were walking down the front of the house he said hastily:

"I'll continue, sir. I see they have the ladder there.”

"What!" cried Walton excitedly, "they can't have it yet, and - God bless me!" What does that mean?"

He began to run, for there, clearly visible now, at the end of the house, with his broad foot in a flower bed, was one of the fruit collection ladders, just long enough to reach the upper windows, and leaning against the windowsill below Kate's room .

He got to the spot first, clapped his hands on his sides and climbed a few laps but stepped right back, his red face mottled with white and his lips trembling with excitement as he spoke.

'Here, you are a lighter man than I, doctor; Go up. The window is also open.”

Lewis jumped up, now mad with fear and dreadful fear; But when he reached the window, he stopped and hesitated, for more reasons than one, chief among them being fear of finding what he believed to be true.

"In you man—in you in," called Walton; "Now is no time for false delicacy." And as he spoke he began to ascend in turn.

Lewis jumped in and saw at a glance that the bed had not been pressed and that there was no sign of struggle or disturbance in the nicely furnished room. Not a chair had fallen over, not a candlestick on the floor, but everything looked ready for its place, except that there was a fire extinguisher on one of the candles next to the glass of the dressing table.

"Went!" cried a hoarse voice behind him as he stood there, wincing amid the anguish he felt, for it seemed sacrilegious to be present.

Lewis turned to find Walton's head against the open casement, and right after that the heavy man entered.

"No, no," he yelled back as the ladder began to bend again. "Not you. Stop below. NO; Take that ladder to the hallway door and wait."

He slammed shut and fastened the window after grabbing the top of the ladder and giving it a shove that sent it crashing to the gravel.

"Doesn't seem like a doctor's business, sir," Walton continued gravely; "But you as a medical professional must remain confidential, so hold your tongue about what you saw."

Lewis bowed his head, unable to speak. A horrible feeling that he was about to have a fit came over him, and he had to struggle to think and comprehend what that meant. For a moment there was a fear that force had been used; the next, that it meant a voluntary escape; and he struggled vehemently with the bitter thoughts that came over him, which suggested to him that his love for this delicate, gentle girl was a mockery, for she was either weak or had bound herself to another long enough before he entered her brought back to the present by the action of the squire, who, after a sharp look, stooped to pick up the door key which lay on the carpet, having been turned and pushed out with the aid of a length of wire,

Walton put the key in, turned it, and opened the door to admit his wife and the maid.

"Miss Kate, Miss Kate," she called.

"Call louder," Walton said mockingly. "Nobody is here."

"James, James, dear, what does that mean?" called Mrs. Walton excitedly.

“The bed was not slept on; Window open - ladder out - can't you see?"

Eliza looked at him wildly, as if unable to understand his words; Then, with a yell, she rushed to a wardrobe, pulled it open, and examined the hooks and pins.

"Hat - waterproof!" She cried; and then with a soft cry: "Away?"

"Yeah, gone," Walton said brutally. "Here, Mary; This way."

"Yes, yes; Claude's room. Come quickly, Doctor, pray."

Pierce Lewis followed the Waltons down the corridor, not knowing where he was going, in the mad turmoil raging in his brain. There were moments when he felt like he was going insane; others when he was willing to believe that he was suffering from a strange aberration that distorted everything he saw and heard until he was drawn back to himself by the squire's voice, which aroused a strong desire to face the worst experience.

"Here, Claude," he called after knocking on his son's bedroom door to no avail. "Claud! No nonsense, sir; I want you. Something serious happened. Answer immediately when you get here.”

There was not a sound and Mrs. Walton sobbed loudly.

"Oh, my boy, my boy! I'm sure he's dead."

"Bah!" Walton exclaimed angrily. "Here, who tried to get into this room?"

No one answered, and Walton bent down and peered through the keyhole.

"Did someone push the key out so it would fall in?"

The question was followed by a low, questioning murmur, but there was no answer.

"Come forward, doctor," Walton said then, and Lewis silently followed him down the stairs and out to the men waiting with the ladder.

This was placed at the window that matched Kate's at the other end of the house, and at a sign from Walton, Lewis mounted again, pretending to be no longer master of his own deeds but wholly influenced by his companion .

"Close window?" Walton called.

"Yes."

"Break it up. Spirit; don't cut your hand."

But as Walton spoke, there was a crack of glass, and Lewis reached in and opened the sash, which he flung open and stepped in, the Squire following him.

In this case, Claude's bed had been overturned for lying outside, but his father realized he'd come down in the usual way after locking his room and putting the key in his pocket to make the impression awakening it to appear that he was still in the room.

"That's enough," Walton said gruffly. "We can go down the way we came."

He looked at the young doctor as if expecting him to ask a few questions, but Lewis didn't say a word, merely stepping back for his companion to come down.

"You're going to shut up about all this, Mr. Lewis?" he said.

"Of course, sir," the young man said coldly. "It is not my business."

"No, not even anyone else's," Walton yelled fiercely. Then, as he reached the foot of the ladder, he glared at his two men.

"Take back the ladder," he said; "And remember, if I see that any man I employ has talked about this business, I'll fire him immediately. - Thank you, doctor, for coming. Of course you will charge a fee. The young lady seems to prefer fresh air.”

Lewis gave him a wild look and quickly walked away.

"Disappointed to have lost his patient," Walton murmured as he walked inside to find his wife waiting for him with outstretched trembling hands.

"Fast!" She cried; "Tell me the worst," as she grabbed his arm.

He put his arm around her waist and seemed to carry her into the library, where he closed the door and pushed her into a chair.

"The worst doesn't exist," he said in a low voice. “Now look here; You must shut up and be as surprised as I am. It's all right. She was just a little scared yesterday. The boy knew what it was about. Sly Jade eloped with him.”

"Gone - Kate?" called Mrs. Walton.

"Yes; Claude has put dust in our silly old eyes. The money will not escape the family, old girl. You are now on your way to marriage, and as for John Graham - let him do his worst."

"Pierce, darling, what happened?" Jenny called as her brother entered the room and sank into a chair. "Oh," she screamed wildly as she flew to him, throwing her arms around his neck and staring at his ghostly face, "it was for Kate. Oh, Pierce, don't say she's dead!"

"Yes," he said in a pained voice; "dead to me."

Chapter Sixteen.

"Dead? Dead to you? "Pierce, talk to me," Jenny called. "What do you mean?"

"What I say. You are a strange mixture of weakness and duplicity."

"Who is, love?" Jenny said, a warm color replacing the pallor her brother's words had evoked. "Why do you keep talking in riddles?"

"Women. Their gentle, calm demeanor compels you to believe in them, and then an epiphany suddenly comes to prove what I'm saying."

Jenny grabbed his shoulder as he sat in his chair with a ghostly expression on his face.

"Tell me what you mean," she called excitedly.

"Just the decay of your castle in the air," he said with a mocking laugh. "The marriage you arranged between the poor doctor and the rich heiress. I can now be strictly honorable with no problem.”

"Do you want to tell me what you mean, Pierce?" the girl cried angrily. "What happened? Is anyone sick at the Manor House?"

"No," he said bitterly.

"Then why were you summoned?"

"To see an imaginary patient."

"Pierce, if you don't want me to go into a fit of hysterical passion," the girl cried, "tell me what you mean. Why – were – you – sent?

"Because," replied Lewis, imitating his sister's speech, "Mise - Katherine - Walton - and - Mr. Claud - should be lying - speechless - in their rooms, and - ha-ha-ha! Their doors could not be broken down.”

"Pierce, what's the matter with you?" Jenny exclaimed excitedly; "Do you know what you're saying?"

"Perfect," he exclaimed, his demeanor changing from a mocking tone to one of wild passion. "When I reached the place, a way was found and the birds were flown out."

"Birds - flown," Jenny cried, looking more and more as if she doubted her brother's sanity; "What birds?"

"The beautiful Katherine and that adorable Crichton, Claude."

"Flyed?" Jenny stammered, now looking half stunned.

"Well, I eloped," he yelled wildly, "to Gretna Gray or a registry office." Who says Northwood's a dull place with no events?"

"Kate Walton eloped with her cousin Claude!"

"Yes, my dear," said Pierce, trying to speak in a careless, indifferent tone, but failing miserably, for each word sounded as if it had been ripped from his chest, and his trembling lips betrayed the anguish that he felt.

There was silence for a few moments, then Jenny called out:

"Pierce, is this a cruel joke?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" He cried wildly, and as he jumped to his feet, he threw aside the mask he had been trying to hide the agony that was tormenting him. "Hoax! when I'm half mad at myself for my folly. I was a stupid, pathetic idiot who was willing to believe in the first pretty face I saw and then, as I said, to realize how full of duplicity and folly a woman is.”

"Watch what you say, Pierce," called his sister, who seemed oddly moved; "Don't say words that make you regret bitterly. tell me again; I feel dizzy and sick. I must be getting sick because I can't have heard you right, or there must be some mistake."

"Mistake!" he shouted with a wild laugh. "Shouldn't I tell you - I've just come from there? Didn't old Walton hide and keep quiet about me? And I told you everything.”

"To stop!" said Jenny thoughtfully; "Kate couldn't do something like that. When was it?"

"Who can tell? – late last night – this morning. What does it matter?"

"That's not true," Jenny exclaimed, eyes flashing. "How dare you, who were willing to kneel and worship her, to utter such a cruel slander?"

"Very good," he cried bitterly; “Then it isn't true; I wasn't there this morning, nor did I look into their empty rooms. Tell me I'm a fool and a madman, and you'll come very close to the truth."

"I don't care," Jenny yelled angrily; 'And it's cruel - almost blasphemous of you to say such a thing about this poor sweet girl I've already fallen in love with. She escapes with her cousin - runs away like a silly girl in a romance! It is impossible."

"Yes, unwavering," he said mockingly, writhing in despair and agony.

"Pierce, you should be ashamed. There! I can only talk to you in banal ways, although I constantly crave words of contempt and contempt with which to crush you. No, I don't, my poor boy, because I can see how you suffer. O Pierce! Pierce!” she continued, sobbing as she threw her arms around his neck; "How can you torture yourself when you think that of her?"

"Good little girl," he said tenderly, touched by her affection. "Now I'll start respecting myself again when I realize my smart, smart little sister could be fooled just like me."

"I wasn't mistaken about her. She is all that is beautiful, good, and true. Of course I believe in her and so do you, only now you're half crazy and betrayed."

"Yes, half mad and deceived!"

"Yes. There is something behind it - I know," Jenny cried wildly. "They followed her like that and encouraged the miserable boy to pay attention to her until she ran away in desperation to seek refuge with some other friends. "

"With Claude Walton!" Pierce said bitterly.

"Silence, sir! No. Women are not as weak, two-faced creatures as you think. No, it is as I say; and oh! Pierce, dear, he was out late last night and when he came back he saw her leaving and followed her."

"Fiction - fantasy," he said bitterly. "You make all this up to comfort me, little woman, but your woven basket doesn't hold water. It leaks right at the beginning. How did you know he was out late last night?”

Jenny's cheeks were scarlet and she turned her face away.

“You see, you're instantly smitten Jenny, and I have a reason for what I said about women; But there are exceptions to every rule, and my little sister is one of them. I didn't count them among the weak."

To his astonishment she burst into a passionate storm of sobs and tears, and in confused and only half-audible words she accused herself of being as weak and stupid as the others and, as he put it, utterly unworthy of his trust .

"Oh! "Pierce, darling," she yelled wildly as she sank to her knees in front of his chair; "I'm a bad, bad girl and I don't deserve everything you think of me. Believe in poor Kate and not in me, because indeed, indeed, she is all that is good and true."

"A man can't control his emotions, Sissy," he said, now half alarmed at the depth of her grief. "I must always believe in you as my own little girl. How could I do otherwise when you have been everything to me for so long since you were a very little girl and I told you not to cry because I would be your father and mother.”

"And so were you, Pierce, love," she sobbed, "but I don't deserve it—I don't deserve it."

"I didn't deserve to have such a loving little companion," he said, kissing her tenderly. "Have I not diverted my imagination from you, and am I not severely punished for my wealth?"

She suddenly pulled away from him and pushed her hair back from her temples while he held her by the waist.

"Pierce!" she said sharply, and there was a look of anger in her eyes, "he's a terrible guy."

"People don't give him a lot of character," Lewis said bitterly, "but that wouldn't excuse me from following him and wringing his neck."

"I think he would be guilty of any malice. tell me dear; Do you think such things could have happened?”

"Which things?" he said and was amazed at her excited nature.

“It's obviously about getting their money; because then it would be his. Do you think he forcibly took her away?”

Lewis winced violently now, and a light seemed to flash in his mind, but it died immediately, and he said, half pityingly, as he drew her to him once more:

"Poor little inventor of fiction," he said with a hard laugh. “But leave it alone, Sissy; this will not work. Those things only happen in a romance. No, I think nothing of the sort; and what do you say about London now?”

chapter seventeen.

"What are you going to do, James, dear?" said Mrs. Walton.

"Ah?"

"What are you going to do, dear? Oh you don't know what a relief this is to me. I wanted to beg you to have the pike pond towed.”

James Walton's strong desire was to do nothing and give his son plenty of time; But there was a Mrs. Grundy in Northwood too, and she had to be studied.

"Do? Um!" He cleared his throat in a long, impressive, rolling sound. "Well, they must be searched for and brought back immediately. It's a shame I wanted to sit down and do nothing, but I can't. "I'm very angry and outraged at both of them because Kate is just as bad as Claude. It's fair to say we condoned the - the - the - what's it called? - escapade."

“Of course not, my dear; and it's such a shame. She could have had such a beautiful wedding and made it a regular 'at home' wedding ritual to reward everyone around me, by then I had already decided on my dress.”

"Oh, I'm glad of that," Walton said with a grim smile. “There is nothing better than being well prepared for the future. Have you made up your mind about your dress when I come over? Crepe, of course?”

"James, honey, you shouldn't. How can you say such terrible things?”

"You make me - to be such an idiot."

"James!"

"Shut up, do it. Yes, I need to investigate.”

"But are you absolutely sure they're so eloped?"

"Oh yes," he said thoughtfully; "There's no doubt about that."

"I don't know, my dear," said Mrs. Walton plaintively. "It seems so strange to me when she was so ill and in such trouble."

"Bah! bill! Like all women, they fight over that first kiss and want it all the time.”

"James, dear, you shouldn't say things like that. It wasn't a scam. I'm sure she was in terrible trouble, and I can't help but think of the pike pond. It haunts me - indeed. Don't you think she may have drowned herself in her agony?"

"Yes, it is," Walton said, scowling at his wife.

"Oh! Terrible! I had horrible dreams all last night. So that's what you think?"

"Yes, now you've done it, old lady. She must have jumped from her window onto the soft flower bed and then gone, got the ladder and put it there, and then she went and called for Claude to come down and walk hand in hand with her for company."

"Jump down - the ladder - what did she want a ladder for, James dear?"

“What do people want ladders for? Why, to come over.”

"But she was down, dear. I - I really don't know what you mean. you confuse me so much But, oh, James dear, isn't that what you mean by Claude?"

"Why not? Count on it, they're at the bottom of the hole the pig drowned in and the pike are eating chunks out of them."

"James! – Oh, what a shame! You are laughing at me."

"Are you laughing at yourself? You would make a horse laugh. Such idiocy. Be quiet if you can. Can't you see how worried and busy I am? And look: if someone calls out of curiosity, you don't know anything. Refer them to me.”

"Yes darling. But it's really very shocking for young people. It's almost immoral. But you think they're going to get married straight away?"

"Trust Claude. Imagine the jade coming off like this. Ah, they are all the same.”

"No, James; I would have died before agreeing to such a procedure.”

"Not you. Now shut up."

"Are you going out, darling?"

“Just a few minutes around the house. By the way, did you examine Eliza and ask her what Kate took?”

"Yes, dear. Nothing at all except her hat, scarf and cloak. What a shabby way to get married."

"It doesn't matter," Walton said; and he went into the hall, through the porch, and on to the spot where the ladder had been found.

There was nothing there except for the deep imprints left by heels, except that a man's footprints were clearly visible; and Walton returned to his wife, rang the bell, and waited with a most judicial air.

"Send Miss Kate's maid over here," he said sternly.

"Yes indeed."

"Stop. Look, Samuel, you are my servant, and I call upon you to tell me the whole truth of this matter, a matter which, upon reflection, I find my duty to investigate. Tell me now, you know something about this action on the part of Mr. Claude?”

"No sir; "Thank god I didn't do that."

"Mr Claude hasn't talked to you about it?"

"No sir."

"Didn't you see him last night?"

"No sir; I went into his room to get his boots to be stripped and dried but the door was locked but when I knocked and asked for it he said something anyway."

"Yes, what did he say?"

Samuel glanced at his mistress and hesitated.

"Don't look at me, Samuel," said Mrs. Walton; "Tell the whole truth."

"Yes; what did he say?" cried Walton sternly.

"Well sir, he told me to go to hell."

Walton coughed.

"That's enough. Go fetch Miss Walton's maid.”

Eliza came, red-eyed and pale, but she could not answer, only assure her that she did not understand, but was sure that something was wrong, for Miss Kate would never have taken such a step without asking her.

And so on and so on. A regular inquiry into the remaining servants ensued, quite judicially at that, and once again Kate's aunt and uncle were alone.

"There," he said; "I think I've done my duty, my dear. Perhaps I should go to the train station and inquire there; but I don't see what use it would do. All I could find out was that they had gone to London.”

"Don't you think, dear, that you should communicate with the police?"

"NO; what for?"

"To track her, dear. The police are so smart; You would definitely find out.”

Walton coughed.

"Maybe we should wait, my dear. I expect that tonight - or tomorrow morning - they will come back remorsefully to ask for our forgiveness. and um – I suppose we need to think about it.”

"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Walton. “What has been done cannot be undone; But I certainly don't know what people will say."

"I will be very strict with Claude, however, for it is a most shameful act. I wonder about Kate.”

"Well, I did, my dear, until I started to think, and then I didn't anymore; because Claude has such a masterful way of handling him. He was always too much for me.”

"Yes," said Walton dryly; "Always. Well, we'd better wait and see if they come back."

"But I'm terribly disappointed, my dear, because we could have had such a great wedding. So go off and get married just like a servant and maid. Don't you remember James and Sarah?"

"Bah! No, I don't remember James and Sarah,” Walton said testily.

"Yes, you do, my dear. It's only been ten years and you have to remember they both wanted to go on vacation on the same day and they came back at night and Sarah said so reluctantly, 'Please ma'am, we were married.'"

Walton swiveled his chair and kicked a lump of coal onto the fire that had to be broken.

"James, dear, you shouldn't do that," his wife said reproachfully. "You're as bad as Claude, only he always does it with his heel. There's poker, my dear."

"I thought you always wanted it to stay light."

"Well, it really is looking better, dear. But I hope Kate doesn't catch a cold if she goes out like that at night."

Walton gritted his teeth and was on the verge of throwing a fit of rage at his wife's tongue, but things seemed to have taken such a satisfactory turn since the day before that the bite wore off, and he planted his heels on the large stovetop . warmed himself and winced involuntarily when he saw that the first, second and third mortgages were now paid off and he was free of the tricks he had credited Graham with having spun. As for Claude, he felt he could mold him like wax. As long as he had some money to spend he would be quiet and of course everything was to his advantage as he would claim the unencumbered lands.

Overall, the future looked so bright that Walton laughed and rubbed his hands at the blazing fire, unaware that the fire hounds were grinning at him like two vicious, brazen goblins; and at that moment Mrs. Walton dropped her work on her lap and laughed merrily.

"What now?" said Walton and turned sharply. "Do not do that. Suppose one of the servants came in and saw you grinning. Remember that we are in great trouble and fear because of what you call this escapade.”

"Yes dear; I forgot. But it seems so funny."

"It didn't seem very funny to me last night."

“No, my dear, of course not; and I never thought that our problems would go away so quickly. But just remember; the two get back together and Kate hasn't changed her name. There will be nothing in their laundry that needs to be marked again.”

"Bah!" Walton growled. "Yes, what is it?" he shouted when the footman appeared.

"Pardon me sir, but Tom Jonson had to go to the village shop to get some crockery paste and it's everywhere."

"Oh is it?" Walton growled. "Of course, if Mr Tom Jonson goes off on purpose to spread it."

"I don't think he said a word, sir, but they talked about it in the shop and young Barker was the last to see them."

"Barker-Barker? Not-"

"Yes sir, how do you give a month for stealing pheasant eggs. That loitering guy.”

"He saw her last night? Here, go and tell Smith to get him here before I do.”

Samuel smiled.

"Do you hear, sir? Don't stand there grinning."

"No sir; certainly not sir," said the man, "but Tom Jonson thought you would like to see him, sir, and he immediately took his collar and brought him here."

"That's right. Bring him in immediately. Hold on a moment. Put two or three Statutes at Large and Burns' Justice of the Peace on the table."

The man hastily gave the side table a stately look with four firebread-colored quartos and a couple of bulky manuals, while Walton turned to his wife.

"Here, Maria," he growled softly; "You better go away."

"Oh please don't send me away darling," she whispered; "It's not one of those horrible cases that you get sometimes, and I'm dying to hear it."

"Very well; but don't speak."

"No, my dear, not a word," whispered Mrs. Walton, and she half-closed her eyes and pursed her lips, but her ears twitched as she anxiously awaited the return of the footman, followed by the groom, who seemed to fall it was not easy for him to push and drag a rough-looking fellow of about eighteen into the room, where he stood with his smock rolled up on both sides so he could put his hands deep in his pockets.

"Take off your hat," Samuel said in a sharp whisper.

"Not Sheeawn!" the guy said defiantly. "I haven't done anything."

Samuel immediately threw the hat to the ground, requiring a hand to be slowly pulled out of his pocket to pick it up.

"Here, don't do that again," the boy shouted.

"Quiet, sir. Get up,” Walton shouted.

"May I pick up my hat? I haven't done anything."

"Say 'sir'," the footman whispered.

"Not Sheeawn. I have done nothing, I tell you. It has nothing to do with bringing me here.”

"Silence, sir," yelled Walton, taking a quill and shaking it at the boy who was acting on him as if it were a terrible magic wand that could write a document condemning him to hard work, skill, and bread and water in that county jail. As a result, he stood with his head tilted forward, his forehead wrinkled and his mouth parted, staring at the fierce-faced Justice of the Peace.

"Listen to me: you will not be brought here as a punishment."

"Well, I haven't done anything," the boy said.

"Glad to hear that and I hope you improve, Barker. Now all you have to do is answer a few questions, and if you do it truthfully and well, you will be rewarded.”

"Beer?" said the lout, grinning.

"My servant will give you some beer when you go out, but first I'll give you a shilling."

The guy grinned.

"Shall I fetch the book and summon him, sir?" said Samuel, accustomed to the library being turned into a small claims court.

"It's not necessary," Walton said sternly. "Now, my boy, answer me."

"Yes, I sinned them both last night."

"Seen who?"

"The young squire and his girlfriend."

"The young squire," made Mrs. Walton smile; "His girlfriend" seemed to clench her teeth.

"Hmph! Are you sure?" Walton said.

"Channel? Yes, I know young Squire well enough. Hit me often. Haha! Know young Squire - I believe so!"

"Say 'sir'," Samuel whispered again.

"Sheeawn't," the guy yelled. "You mind your own business."

"Take care of me, sir," Walton called in his strictest banking manner.

"Well, I'll try Master, only he keeps killing me."

"Where did you see my son and - er - the lady?"

“Where have I sinned? up the road.”

"Where were you?"

"Watch out, the hedge."

"And what did you do behind the hedge - laid cables?"

"No. They just got me bat nets.

"But you were hiding, sir?"

"Well, what about it? "Have to hide. I can't go anywhere at night now without my sister watching you. I can't decide on a few rafters, but some say they're partridges."

"What time was it?"

"Hey?"

"What time was it?"

"I know; nine or ten or "eleven". Twelve maybe.”

"So?"

"Hey?"

"So what?"

"What then? Nothing as far as I know. Yes, there it was; he puts his arm around her waist and she dowses him in the face."

"Hmph! Which way did they go then?”

"Up the street."

"Did you follow them?"

"Why was I able to follow you? I shouldn't want anybody to follow me after I've dated a girl."

Walton frowned.

"Did you see a carriage waiting for it?"

"No."

"What did you do then?"

"Waited until they were out of sight."

"Yes, and then what?"

"Ketched-sparers, and they're no game."

The lout looked around and grinned at everyone present, as if impersonating the judge in whose presence he was standing, until his eyes fell on Mrs. Walton, who was listening intently, and to her he raised his hand and gave it to her open door, palm up, past his face until it was as high as he could reach and then down in a circle, a motion considered a supremely respectful bow in rural schools.

"Ah, Barker, Barker!" said the recipient, shaking her head; "You're never coming to Sunday school now."

"Became too big, missus," the boy said, grinning, and then noisily used his cuff to replace the handkerchief he was missing.

"We're never too big to learn to be good, Barker," Mrs. Walton continued, "and I'm afraid you're becoming a bad boy now."

“Oh, I don't know, woman; I wouldn't be a bad player if there wasn't a game."

"That's enough, that's enough," said the squire impatiently. "So that's all you know, sir?"

"Oh no; I know a lot more," said the boy, grinning.

"Then why the hell aren't you talking?"

"What are you saying?"

"Tell me what else you know about Mr. Claude and the lady, and I'll give you another shilling."

"Will you?" the boy called eagerly. "Well, I sowed them five or six times before I walked along the grove and down the narrow lane, and I noticed that once he put his arm around them, and I was near, near a raven's hole ; and she said, 'How dare you, sir!' How dare you!' just like that, I don't remember, and that's two shillings."

"There; be off. Take him away, Samuel, and give him a horn of ale.

"Yes sir - then come along."

But the boy stood there grinning first at the squire and then at Mrs. Walton, rubbing his hands at his sides.

"Did you hear?" the servant whispered as the groom opened the door. "Light up."

"Not Sheeawn."

"Light up. Beer."

"But he hasn't given me the two shillings yet."

"Ah? Oh, forgot,” said the landowner.

"Gahn. none of your games I couldn't have forgotten so quickly."

"There – take him away."

Walton held out a few shillings and the fellow snatched them up, bit them both between his big white teeth, put one in each pocket, gave Mrs. Walton another bow, and turned to go; but his wardrobe had sadly been neglected, and on the first step one of the shillings ran down the leg of his trousers, escaped from the opening into his ill-laced boot, rattled on the polished oak floor, and then, as was the fashion, ran on fuller Coins to hide in the darkest corner of the room. But Barker was too perceptive for that, and he completely forgot the lessons he'd learned in school about "behaving humbly and reverently to all those superior to you," and cried, "Loo, loo, loo!

"Hole in the pocket," he said confidentially, and went to get the beer.

"Bah! Brutal!" Walton growled as the door closed. "Well, Maria, there's no doubt about that now."

"No, my dear, and we can sleep in peace."

But Mrs. Walton was wrong, except for the little nap she took after supper while her husband smoked his pipe; for that night just before the last light went out--the last light was in the Squire's room, where certain arrangements involving hair and bits of paper had kept Mrs. Walton for almost half an hour after her husband had announced at regular intervals that he Be quick I was asleep – the doorbell in the hall rang for a long time.

In the stillness and solitude of the rural town, it was so completely unexpected that Mrs. Walton jumped from her place in front of the dressing table, shaking the table so that a perfume bottle fell with a crash, injuring her knees.

"James - James!" She cried.

"Er, what's the matter?" Came out of bed as the squire suddenly sat up.

"Fire! Fire! Another stack burning I'm sure."

Walton jumped out of bed, ran to the window, yanked aside the blinds, threw open the window frame, and looked down.

"Where is it?" he yelled, having been called out of his bed more than once to make fires.

"Where's what?" came in a familiar voice.

Walton shot back, dropping the blinds.

'Put on your robe,' he said hastily, 'and pull those damn things out of your hair. They came back.”

"Oh my dear, and I have that figure!" cried the lady, and for the next ten minutes the hurried dressing could be heard.

"Look sharp," Walton said. "I'll go down and let her in. You'd better wake Cook and Samuel; they will want something to eat.”

"It won't take me two minutes, my dear. Take them to the library; the wood ashes will soon glow again. My own favorites! I am happy."

Mrs. Walton was less, for when the heavy bolts, lock, and bolt were undone, she had left her room, and hastened to the balustrade to look down the hallway, oblivious to the cool gust of wind that blew rushed upstairs and almost extinguished the candle her husband had placed on the marble table.

"My own boy!" She sighed as she saw Claude enter and heard his words.

"Thank you," he said. "Went to bed soon."

"Usual time, my boy," Walton said in a very different tone from when they last met. "But didn't you bring them with you?"

"Did you bring her?"

"Yes; where's Kate?"

"I guess I'm sound asleep in bed by now," the young man said pouting.

“Oh, but you should have brought her. Where do you come from?"

"Fast train down. London. Didn't you think I'd stop here to get kicked?"

"Say no more about it, my boy. It's all over now; but why didn't you overthrow her?"

"Oh, Claude, my boy, you shouldn't have left her like this."

"Tripped her - Kate - shouldn't have left," the young man said excitedly. "Here, what do you two think?"

“There, nonsense; "What's the use of pretense now, my boy," said Walton. "Of course we do, and there's no use crying over spilled milk. We didn't like it and you both shouldn't have tried to throw dust in our eyes."

"Look, boss, have you been to dinner anywhere tonight?"

"Absurd, sir. Stop with this fool. Where did you leave Kate?"

"In bed and asleep, I suppose."

"But - but where were you then?"

"London, I'm telling you. I shouldn't have been back by now, only I couldn't find Harry Duncan. He's off somewhere, so I figured I'd better come back. I say: is she alright again?”

"I knew it! I knew it!" cried Mrs. Walton. "I said it from the start. Oh, James, James! – The pond – the pond! She's gone - she's gone!'

"Who's gone?" Claude stammered, looking from father to mother and back again.

"Kate dear; drowned—drowned,” wailed Mrs. Walton.

"What!" shouted Claude.

"Look, sir," his father said, grabbing his arm in a violent grip as he lifted the candle to scrutinize his son's face. "Let's get the truth right now. You play your own game to hide this – this escapade.”

"Governor!" cried the young man, seizing his father's arm in turn; “Put down the cursed candle; You're gonna burn my face You don't mean to say that little thing cut?"

Chapter Eighteen.

James Walton stood for a few moments, staring inquiringly at his son. Then, in a sudden rush of anger, he rushed to the library door, yanked it open, came back, grabbed the young man's shoulders, and began to usher him inside.

"Here, what are you doing, boss? Stop! Do not do that. Why don't you answer my question?"

"Shut up, idiot! Do you think I want all servants to hear what is being said? Go in there.”

He gave it one last shove and then hurried upstairs to where Mrs. Walton was standing, holding on to the heavy balustrade that ran like a gallery across the hall, and swaying back and forth.

"Oh, James, I knew - I knew!" she sobbed. "She's dead - she's dead!"

"Silence! Shut up!" her husband called. "Do you want to alert the house? They have all the servants right here. Come along."

He pulled her arm roughly under his and hurried her down the stairs into the library, squeezing her into her son's arms and then rushed to the hall table to get the candle, eventually locking himself in with them.

"Oh, Claud, Claud, my dear boy!" wailed Mrs. Walton.

"If you don't shut up, Maria, you make me angry," Walton growled angrily. "Sit in this chair."

"Oh, James, James, you shouldn't," sobbed the poor woman, "you shouldn't," as she lay heavily on her stomach; but she spoke in a whisper.

"Completed?" asked Claude mockingly. "Then maybe you can answer my question now. Has she run away?”

"Silence, idiot!" his father growled so violently that the young man backed away from the stands, startled. "No, don't be silent, but speak. Do you think, you despicable pup, that you can influence me by your question - by your feigned ignorance? Do you think you can force something on me, I say? Do you think I can't see through your plans?"

"I say, " Matter, what is the boss talking about?" cried Claude.

"She's dead - she's dead!"

"Who is dead? what is dead?”

"Answer me, sir," Walton continued, supporting his son until he couldn't get any further to the large table. "Do you think you can force something on me?"

"Who is trying to force something on you, boss?"

"You do, sir. But I see through your miserable plan and I'll tell you the following. You cannot handle the money yourself to make ducks and drakes with it, for I am executor, trustee and guardian, and if there is law in the land I will lock up every shilling so that you cannot touch it. If you had played with me honorably, you would have had plenty, and the estate would have come to you one day free from encumbrances, if you had not killed yourself first.”

"I don't know what you're talking about," Claude exclaimed angrily. "Who's pushing you? Who Plays Dishonorably? You were being a brute to me and I went out to get out of it, but I didn't want to be hard on Mom so I came back."

"Oh, my dear boy! It was very, very kind of you.”

"Shut up, Maria. "Let the shallow young idiot speak," Walton growled. "Now sir, answer me - have you gone through any form of marriage?"

"With who?" said the young man, grinning.

"Answer my question, sir. Have you gone through any form of marriage?”

"ME? No. I'm free enough, boss."

"You didn't?" exclaimed Walton in horror. "Are you telling me you took the poor girl somewhere and didn't marry her?"

"No, I don't want to tell you anything of the sort. Here, mother, is Father going mad?”

"Quiet, Mary; don't answer him."

"Yes you do, mom. What's that supposed to mean? Did Kitty run away?”

"She drowned - she drowned, my boy."

"Nonsense, mom! You always think someone drowned. Then she took off. I say!

"No sir; she didn't elope, as you call it in your pathetic horse-speak. You took her away - there; don't deny it. You've got her somewhere, and you think you can fight back in spite of me."

"Am I doing that, boss?"

"Yes sir, you do. But I warned you and showed you how to do it. Now look here; Your only chance is to give up and do exactly as I tell you.”

"Oh is it?" said the young man mockingly.

"Yes sir, it is. So be frank and frank with me right now, and maybe I can help you out of this miserable hole you have thrown us into.”

"Then carry on. Do it your way, boss.”

"There must be no time wasted - that is, if you are not fooling me and have already performed the ceremony."

"I didn't pay attention to ceremonies," Claude said with a laughing grin; "I gave her a few kisses and the result was a nice bang."

"Are you serious, sir?"

"Yes, I'm serious enough. Where did she go?"

"Where did you take her?"

"I didn't take her anywhere, boss."

"Are you telling me, sir, that you didn't climb a ladder to your window?"

"Hello!"

"Take her down and take her with you immediately?"

"I say, Governor," Claud shouted with such startling energy that his father's last suspicions were shattered; "Is it that bad?"

"So you didn't take them off?"

"Of course I didn't do that. undress her? What, after this scene? Probably. What nonsense, boss! Do you think she would have come?”

"Claud, you stun me, my boy," Walton exclaimed, looking stunned, but his disbelief immediately overwhelmed him. "NO; only by your insolence," he continued. "You gamble with me; worse, you gamble with a great fortune. Come on, it pays for you to be frank. Where is she?"

"At the bottom of the pike pond, as far as I know - a termagant," called Claude; "I'm telling you, I haven't seen her since the argument."

"Then she drowned - she drowned."

"Shut up, Maria!" Walton yelled. “Well, boy, tell me the truth, in a way; Did you elope with Kate?”

"No, Governor, I didn't," the young man called out. "I never had the chance, otherwise I would have done it immediately."

Walton's jaw dropped. Now fully convinced, he sank into a chair and stared at his son.

"I – I thought you made short work of it," Walton said hoarsely.

"Then she's really gone?" said Claude in a whisper.

"Yes, yes, my dear," blurted out Mrs. Walton. "I knew it! I was right at first."

"Then where has she gone, mother?"

"Shut up, woman!" Walton shouted angrily. “You don't know about it – how could she get a ladder there? Footsteps on the flower bed, my boy. A man in it. I thought it was you."

"And all the money's gone," Claude exclaimed.

"No, not yet, my boy. I beg your pardon for suspecting you. It felt so much like your work to me. But stop - you're cheating on me; it was your fault.”

"Then do as you wish, Governor."

"You were seen with her last night."

"Ah? What time?" called Claude.

"I don't know what time it is, sir, but a man saw you with her. Come on, you see the risk of losing a fortune. Express."

Claude spoke up, but what he said was his own business. Then, after thinking for a minute, he said, "I'm saying, would it be old Graham, boss?"

"No, sir, it wouldn't be John Graham," Walton exclaimed, his anger rising again.

"NO; I have it, boss," cried Claude excitedly. "I went upstairs to take a trip into town with Harry Duncan, but he was out. That's it; he ain't a penny in the world and was in. I've been down here three times lately. I thought he suddenly loved her so much and twice he said Kitty was so good looking. That's it he kidnapped her.

“No, no, my dear; "She wouldn't have walked away with a man like that," Mrs. Walton sobbed. "She didn't like him."

"NO; absurd," Walton exclaimed.

"But he would have gone with her, Governor."

"You were seen with her last night."

"Oh, was I? All right then. If that's what you're saying, I suppose it was me, boss, but I'm going back to London after tracking down all I can. You're on the wrong track, papa - he! I never thought of that."

“You are wrong, Claude; you are wrong."

"Yes, mother, that is completely wrong," the young man cried out fiercely. "Why did I not think of this? I might have done the same, and now it's too late. Maybe not. She would hold out after he kidnapped her, and we might be able to get to her in time. No, I know Harry Duncan. It's too late now."

"Look, Claude, boy, I want to believe in you," said Walton, struck again by his son's sincerity; "Are you telling me you think Harry Duncan took her by force?"

"Coercion or some trick. It was just the time when she could listen to him. There; You can believe me now.

"Then who was the lady you were seen with last night? come on be honest You have been seen with someone. Who was it?"

"I'm not allowed to kiss or tell, boss," Claude said with a sickly grin.

"Look here," Walton said hoarsely. "There's a hundred and fifty thousand pounds at stake, my boy. Was it Kate?”

"No, father," cried the young man earnestly; "It wasn't, in my soul."

"Should I trust you?"

"Look boss, do you think I want to get this money over with? What use would I have if I pretended I hadn't kidnapped her? I told you I would have done it in a heartbeat if given the chance; and besides, you would have liked it as long as I could get her to say yes. I didn't kidnap her once and for all. It was Harry Duncan and if he stole this piece of coin from me, curse him, if I get caught on it I'll break his neck!'

"Oh! 'Claud, Claud, my darling,' wailed Mrs. Walton, 'talking like that when your cousin is lying cold and motionless at the bottom of that pond!'

Chapter Nineteen.

For almost two days, Pierce Lewis walked like someone who had suffered terrible mental shock; and Jenny's pleasant little round cheeks told of the anxiety she suffered as her eyes followed him wistfully, and she never seemed to tire of undertaking small tasks for him that would divert his attention from the thoughts that were vital to his life weakened .

Life in the quiet little cottage had changed completely, for brother and sister were playing roles they were totally unfit for in a melancholy real-life farce, wearing masks and trying to hide their ailments from each other with a wretched desire for success.

And all the while Lewis longed to open his heart to the loving, loving little thing that had been his companion from infancy, his confidant in all his hopes, and guide in every move and plan. She had read and studied with him, helped him solve difficult issues, and for years they had lived lives of happiness together, ready to laugh easily at the money problems that came with the disappointment of one's purchase of the Northwood practice fraudulent or grossly ignorant agents.

"Don't worry about it Pierce dear," Jenny had said, "it's just the loss of some money and since it's in the country we can live on less and keep wearing our old clothes." I wish I could cut and turn your coats and pants. You men laugh at us and our fashion, but we women can laugh at you and your fashion. Admittedly our hats and dresses are flimsy, see how we can re-cut and unpick them to make them look new again while your dumb things get worn and shiny and then useless. They are completely hopeless, because I dare not make you a new coat out of two old ones.”

There was much merry laughter at such matters, Jenny's spirits rising as country life brought back the bloom of health which had failed at Westminster; and despite the lack of patients, life was going very happily until the change came. This change somewhat resembled that in the yard of the amateur who was seized by the desire to hold and display those large, lumbering birds - the brahmas - that were so popular years ago.

He had a pen of half a dozen chicks, the result of the incubation of a clutch of eggs laid by a feathered princess of royal blood; and watching them through their infancy he was hopeful of winning prizes - silver cups and vases, at all the crack fowl shows. And how he nursed and pampered his domestic animals, watching them in the various stages through which this type of fowl passed—one can hardly say feathered fowl in the early stages of their existence, for during their early infancy they run about as a rude one, so to speak , unclothed state, which is pitiful to behold, for in the Dundreary idea of ??the uniqueness of plumage they are almost 'featherbirds'; And only when they have reached their full size, take on the heavy, massive plumage that makes their lanky skeletal forms look so huge. These six young Brahma males grew and thrived in their enclosure, innocent, happy and at peace, until one morning their owner looked at them with pride, for they were everything a Brahma lover could wish for - small-chested, heavy hair, tail slightly developed, broadly bundled, short-legged and without a trace of vulture hocks. "First prize for one of them," said the proprietor, and after feeding them he went into town, and when he came back his hopes were dashed, his six roosters panting, ragged, bleeding wrecks, squatting half dead in the Pen around, too exhausted to goad and peck again. short-legged and without a trace of vulture hocks. "First prize for one of them," said the proprietor, and after feeding them he went into town, and when he came back his hopes were dashed, his six roosters panting, ragged, bleeding wrecks, squatting half dead in the Pen around, too exhausted to goad and peck again. short-legged and without a trace of vulture hocks. "First prize for one of them," said the proprietor, and after feeding them he went into town, and when he came back his hopes were dashed, his six roosters panting, ragged, bleeding wrecks, squatting half dead in the Pen around, too exhausted to goad and peck again. his six cocks panting, ragged, bleeding wrecks, crouched half dead in the pen, too exhausted to spur and peck again. short-legged and without a trace of vulture hocks. "First prize for one of them," said the proprietor, and after feeding them he went into town, and when he came back his hopes were dashed, his six roosters panting, ragged, bleeding wrecks, squatting half dead in the Pen around, too exhausted to goad and peck again. his six cocks panting, ragged, bleeding wrecks, crouched half dead in the pen, too exhausted to spur and peck again. short-legged and without a trace of vulture hocks. "First prize for one of them," said the proprietor, and after feeding them he went into town, and when he came back his hopes were dashed, his six roosters panting, ragged, bleeding wrecks, squatting half dead in the Pen around, too exhausted to goad and peck again.

Because in this enclosure there had been a royal fight in which the young birds fought a furious hand-to-hand fight. For what reason? For, as good old Doctor Watts said, 'It's in her nature.' They didn't know until that morning, but in every breast was a great passion waiting to be awakened, and they were roused by peaceful birds pecking and clawing into perfect demons of discord.

Wire netting was spread all over their carefully polished enclosure, and until then they had never seen others of their kind. It was their world, and as far as they knew, there were no fowl or chickens besides them. The memory of the mother under whose feathers they nested was gone because the chicken brain cavity is small.

That morning a stray, perky looking, elegantly glittering, golden Hambro-chicken appeared on the wall, looked down for a moment at the feather of full-grown, innocent young Brahmas, and uttered the monosyllabic words, "Take, took!" and flew away .

For a brief moment the long necks of the roosters were stretched in the direction in which this vision of beauty had appeared for a brief moment; The fire of jealous love flared up and they turned and fought almost to the death. It would have been quiet if the power had been there.

The owner of these six cripples did not accept an award.

So in Northwood there were no women for Pierce Lewis, except as sisters or friends. Now the desire to rend his human brother was strong in him.

Jenny knew it, and for more reasons than one she trembled at the time that had to come when Pierce would first meet Claude Walton, for she had quickly realized that her brother's long-deferred passion was all the stronger , the more suddenly she grew up .

In her anxiety she went out much during those two days to help her health, but in reality she was anxious for the news she thought was about to come of Claude's trial with his cousin; and twice she had brought up the subject of her planned departure, causing Lewis to raise an eyebrow in mild puzzlement at the sudden change in his sister's ideas. But it was not until evening, during her brother's temporary absence, that she heard the news she was waiting for.

He was called up by one of Lewis' poor patients--one of the class that most young doctors suffer from, who spend their lives believing that they are very ill and that it is a doctor's duty to pay special attention to their ailments and wasteful to be knowledge and medicine to the full without even the thought of payment entering their minds.

Betsy Bray was the lady in question and as was her wont, Jenny saw the woman ready to hear her latest complaint and tell her brother when he got back.

Betsy was fifty-five and possessed of a strong constitution that can take much lightness; but in her own estimation she was very bad. Through frequent visits to doctors' offices, she had acquired some medical terminology and peppered her conversations with them and others of religious affiliation, with her participation in church alms giving and other charitable giving being the most common description.

"Doctor home, Miss?" she said plaintively, sinking slowly and plumply onto the small couch in the office, said piece of furniture groaning in all its feathers, for Betsy was weighty.

"No, Mrs. Bray. He went to West Gale to visit the Dudges.

"Ah, he always calls someone when I've managed to drag my weary bones all the way up from the village."

"I'm very sorry. What's going on now?" Jenny said soothingly.

"Is that important, Miss? What's the matter with me? It's my chronicle. I didn't sleep once the whole blessed night."

"Well, I have to give you something."

“No, no, my dear; You don't understand my problems. It is that the absorption is completely wrong; and you would give me something from the wrong bottles. Just give me a sample of Spirits to give me the strength to get back home and ask and pray that the doctor will come to me as soon as he gets home if you don't want me to be completely exhausted, be made cold and another day is done."

"But I have no spirits, Mrs. Bray."

"Do you not have one? Well, I think a glass of wine might do. Keep me alive until I crawl home to die."

"But we have no wine."

"Dear, dear, dear, think about it," the woman said angrily. "The old doctor always had some and a drop of spirits too. Ah, it is hard to be old and poor and in poor health, and to carry your gray hair to the grave in sorrow; and all around you are rich and well and happy, rich in money, all marrying and marrying and all wearing their wedding dresses. Have you heard of what was happening up at the Manor House?'

'Yes, yes, something about you, Mrs Bray; but I will tell my brother, and I know he will come to you.”

“Yes, you tell him; not because I believe in him much, but poor people have to take what they can get - he's come back, you know?'

"My brother? NO; he would have walked right in here."

"Your brother? Tchah, no!" exclaimed the woman, forgetting her "Chronicles" in her sheer interest in the new topic. I meant him at the Manor - young Claud Walton. He's come back."

"Come back?" Jenny exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes; but I've heard he hasn't brought his young wife with him. Glad they're running off to get married. But I'm not surprised; he made a long-ago deal with the vicar about Sally Deal at the end of the village quarreled, and the vicar is fine with not marrying her. I wouldn't marry here out of defiance. Well, I have to go. Are you sure you haven't got a drop of gin in the house?"

"Absolutely sure," Jenny said quickly; "And I will definitely tell my brother to come."

“Yes, do it; and tell him I say it's a shame he lives so far out of the village. I sometimes feel like I'll die in one of the ditches before I get here, that's it. So, don't rush me like that; I don't want to get sick here. I know doctors don't mind helping people out in the world when they get tired of them.”

"Went!" Jenny finally exclaimed with a relieved sigh; and then, with tears in her eyes, "Oh, what should I do? What should I do? If they meet - if he ever finds out!"

She rushed upstairs, put on her hat and jacket, and came downstairs, pale and excited but without any concrete plans. One idea stood out to her; But when she reached the door, she saw her brother coming, walking briskly, from the opposite direction of the old woman who had just left.

"Too late!" she said with a rueful sigh; and she hurriedly ran upstairs and threw away her things.

She had barely rearranged her hair when she heard her brother's voice calling her.

"Yes darling," she said, running downstairs to find that he looked awful.

"Who was the one who left here?" he said hoarsely.

She told him, but not about her promise to send him.

"I'll go to her right away," he said.

"No, no, Pierce, dear; she is not sick. Pray stay home. There really is no need.”

"Why should I stay home?" he said, looking at her suspiciously.

"I – I'm not very well, dear. You were so boring it pissed me off. I wish you would stay with me tonight; I feel so nervous and lonely.”

"Yes, I will," he said; "But I have to go there first."

“No, no, darling; "Don't go, please don't go," she begged, grabbing his arm. "Please stay. She's not ill at all and I want you to stop. I'll make tea right there and we'll sit down and have a long comfortable chat and it will do us both good, dear. "

"Jenny," he called out harshly, "you want to keep me at home."

“Yes, dear, I told you so; but don't speak so harshly; You're scaring me."

"I'm not blind," he cried. "Don't deny it. You heard from that old woman what I just found out. He came back."

"Pierce!" She cried; And she drew back from him and covered her face with her hands.

"Yes," he said wildly, and there was an expression on his ghostly face that she had never seen before. "I knew it; and you're afraid I might meet him and wring his miserable neck."

"Oh, Pierce, Pierce," she cried pathetically as she threw herself at his feet; "Don't, don't, pray, don't talk that crazy way."

"Why not?" he said with a mocking laugh. "It's consistent. There, get up; Don't kneel and pray to a madman."

She jumped up quickly, grabbed his shoulder, then threw herself over his knees and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"That's not true," she exclaimed passionately. "You're not angry; you're just terribly angry, and I'm scared to death for fear you might meet and become violent."

"Violent! I could kill him!" he murmured, a hard look in his eyes. "My god, what a desecration! He's marrying her! She must have been crazy or some horrific act of violence took place. Jenny, girl, I'll see him and grab him by the throat and make him tell me everything I've fought about. I told myself she wasn't worth thinking about but my heart tells me she's not. A terrible trick was played on her; she would not do it - as you said - she could not have dealt with that wretched little dog of her own free will."

"Yes, yes, I think so," she said hysterically. "So wait patiently, dear, and one day we will know the truth."

"Wait!" he cried with a mocking laugh. "Wait! My brain felt like it was on fire. No, I waited too long; I should have followed it right away and learned the truth.

“No, no, dear; You two are not allowed to meet. Then listen to me.

"One day, little bird," he said, lifting her off his knee as he stood up; Then he kissed her tenderly, freed himself from her hands as gently as he could and rushed out.

"Oh, Pierce, Pierce!" She cried. "Stay, stay!"

But the only answer to her call as she ran for the door was the heavy pounding of his feet in the darkness of the misty evening.

"And when they meet, he'll find out everything," she wailed pathetically. She paused, waited a moment, then searched her bag and pulled out a tiny silver whistle, which she tucked into the bodice of her dress after tossing the ribbon that was in the ring over her head.

A minute later, with her cloak thrown on and the hood pulled up over her head, she had slipped out of the hut and was running down the side street towards the manor house.

Chapter Twenty.

The soft light of the moon lured Kate to her bedroom window where she pulled up the blinds and after staring at the silver sphere for a few minutes she opened the casement, opened it, pulled a chair forward to sit down and to open the windowpane The soft air of the late autumn night cools her aching forehead.

For the stillness and stillness seemed to bring calm, and little by little the dull throbbing in her head became less painful, the strange sense of confusion that had made thinking such a terrible effort began to pass, and with heavenward eyes Eyes, she began to review the events of the day and try to find for herself the most sensible path to take. She felt she had to leave Northwood, and now; However, it was not clear how to fight the will of her appointed guardian. Graham had laid the case all too clearly when he met Walton, and there was not the slightest doubt in her mind as to the truth of what he had said. It was all settled in the family

She shuddered at the thought; but the weak girl died again, and her pale cheeks began to burn again with incensed anger, and the throbbing of her forehead returned, so that she was glad to lay her head on her hand.

Gradually the suffering lessened, and as the pain and mental confusion subsided, she set about the task of making a decision about what to do the next day, proposing to herself plan after plan and ideas developed collapsed before this one thought came: Her uncle was her guardian and trustee, and his power over her was complete.

what to do, what to do? The recurring question until she got dizzy.

Knowing what he was doing, Graham felt it was the height of cruelty to have left her, but she had to admit that all he could do was chide his relatives for their duplicity.

But he had done much for her; he had fully supported her own ideas about her position and her uncle's intentions; and finally, with tears in her eyes, as she watched the moon slowly rising over the trees, she sat motionless for a while, thinking of her happy life in the past. and since she admitted to herself that the advice given to her was correct, she gently closed the window, drew down the blinds and resolved to follow the advice.

"Yes, I have to sleep on it - if I can," she said softly. "Poor Liza is right, and I'm not entirely alone - I'm never alone because in spirit those who loved me so much must still be with me."

Two candles were burning on the dressing table, but their light troubled her aching eyes, and she slowly snuffed them both out, as the soft light flooding the window was perfectly adequate for her purpose.

Crossing the room to the side furthest from the door, she bent down and bathed her aching forehead for a few minutes before beginning to undress. Then she was about to loosen her hair when she was startled by a soft tapping outside the window that sounded like something had hit the window sill.

She paused and listened for a few minutes, but all was still, and when she decided that the noise had been made by a rat jumping down somewhere behind the paneling of the old room, she raised her hands again her head, but only when she stood paralyzed with terror did they stare, for suddenly a shadow appeared at the bottom of the blind - a dark shadow cast by the moon; and as she stared at it in speechless fear, it rose higher and higher and seemed monstrously large.

She tried to shake off the horrible, nightmarish feeling of terror, but as she realized that to reach the door she had to go past the window, it grew stronger.

The bell!

It was at the head of the bed and at first she felt helpless, so completely paralyzed she couldn't even scream for help.

What could it mean? Someone had put a ladder against the window sill and had climbed up it, and at the thought that now flashed through her mind, the feeling of helplessness vanished, and the hot indignation made her strong and gave her a courage that banished her childish fear.

How dare he! It was Claude, and she knew what he would say – that he had come there when everything was still in the house and no one could know, to ask her forgiveness for the scene that day.

She straightened up and walked quickly towards the door, intending to go straight to Lisa's room, when the shadow on the blind moved again and the fear returned and her heart was pounding violently.

Claude was a short-haired, smooth-faced boy - the shadow cast on the blinds was the silhouette of a broad-shouldered, bearded man.

It was clear enough now - burglars had to try to gain entry, and the next moment she would have screamed loudly for help, but at that moment there was a light knock on one of the panes, the shadow became smaller and darker, as if the face had been pressed close to the window and she heard her name spoken softly twice.

"Kate! Kate!”

She conquered her fear again and told herself it had to be Claude; and she walked slowly to the door; laid her hand on the bolt to turn it, but paused again, for once more the deep, clear voice rang out:

"Kate! Kate!”

She let out a convulsive cry, turned abruptly and half ran to the window, every pulse pounding with excitement as she sensed that the help she had prayed for last night had arrived.

Chapter twenty one.

Kate Walton didn't hesitate. The fear was gone and she quickly pulled up the blinds and opened the casement.

"You?" she said quickly while holding out her hands, which were immediately grabbed and held.

"Yes; who shall it be, my child? Were you afraid that an insolent young rascal would dare to do such a thing?"

“At first,” she faltered, and then quickly, “I hardly knew what to think; I was afraid someone would break in. Oh, Mr Graham, why have you come?'

He let out a small laugh.

"For the same reason, I suppose that would prompt a father who knew his child was in danger to behave in the same way."

'It's very, very kind of you; but you will be heard, and it will only cause new trouble.”

"It can do nothing greater than has happened to us, my child. I was halfway to London but couldn't go any further; So I got off at a train station ten miles away, went to the nearby village and found a bow tie and a man who drove me over. I wanted to know how you are. Have you seen her again?”

"NO. I came straight to my room and haven't left it since."

"Good girl! That was very brave of you. Then you followed my advice."

"Naturally."

"And Master Claude?"

He felt her flinch and shudder.

"Please don't talk about him. But I am very grateful to you for your kindness and consideration, and for your courageous defense.”

"Brave nonsense, my child!" he said bluntly. "I did what any man in his right mind would have done if he had caught a villain insulting a weak, helpless girl. Kate, my dear, my blood has been boiling ever since. I couldn't go back and leave you in this state; I was forced to visit you and have a little consultation about your future. I felt like I had to do it before I saw James Walton again. It's not a very reputable way to get to a man's house, even if he's an acquaintance of mine; I wasn't showing you respect either, my child, but I was sure that if I had come to the door and asked to see you, I would have been refused entry."

"Yes, yes," Kate said sadly. "I shouldn't have been told you were coming or I would have insisted on seeing you."

"You would! Brave girl! I like it when you speak so decisively. Well, as a middle-aged man I had no choice but to play the swashbuckling gallant at the lady's window – lattice, I should say."

"Please don't talk like that, Mr. Graham," Kate said. "It doesn't sound like you when you're playful in your own way."

“Thank you, my child, you are right; That's not true. I accept the accusation. Well, to be factual. Of course you've been thinking hard since you were alone?"

“Yes, I take my position very, very seriously. Mr Graham, it is impossible for me to stay here.”

"Pretty much impossible. Your aunt and uncle's behavior towards you - no matter what promises they may give you - makes them completely unworthy of your trust. So?"

"I've pretty much decided that tomorrow I'm going out with Eliza, our old nurse and maid."

"A most worthy woman, my dear. It doesn't get any better; But-"

"But what?" said Kate nervously.

"I don't want to alarm you, but are you fully aware of your position here?"

"Yes, and that's why I decided to leave."

"Exactly; but you don't quite get what I mean. What about your uncle?"

"You mean he'll object?"

"Exactly."

"But if I stand firm and insist, he won't dare stop me," the girl said warmly.

"Is that what you think? Well, think again, my child. He is your guardian and trustee; he will absolutely refuse and will take whatever steps he sees fit to prevent your leaving. I am afraid that Your poor father, because of the power he has left in his hands, will see himself entitled to hold you prisoner until you obey his wishes.”

"Mr. Graham, he certainly doesn't dare go to such extremes!"

"I fear he has the power, and it pains me to say that he is in such a position that he is likely to be reckless in his desire to achieve his goals."

Kate took a deep breath and looked pleadingly into the speaker's face.

"As the lawyer and husband of your aunt's late sister, James Walton naturally turned to me for help with his financial affairs and I did my best for him. I found out that he had foolishly bet on the stock market instead of sticking to his farms and was so involved that immediate payments had to be made to save him from utter ruin.”

"But surely my father didn't know anything about it?"

"Not a word. He kept his own advice and of course I had no idea what arrangements your father had made until the reading of the will; in fact I was a bit taken aback, for I thought it possible that he had made me one of your trustees But that by the way. I have been helping your uncle as a money agent as best I can and I have found clients who were willing to advance him money for his estate which is now highly mortgaged. These funds are now needed as interest has not paid for years and has been paid in full. In short, James Walton is in a desperate state and my visits here were for the purpose of pulling him out of the financial mess he is in. Are you now beginning to understand what his plans are?"

"Yes, I understand," Kate said sadly; "It's about getting some of the money that should be mine to pay off his debts."

"Exactly, and the easiest way to do that is to marry you to Claude."

“No, there is an easier way, Mr Graham. If my uncle had come to me and shared his situation with me, I would have felt that I could not have done a more kind act than to help my father's brother by paying his debts."

“Very kind and generous of you, my child; but he would not think it possible, and I must tell you that, after what has passed, if you helped your uncle to that extent, you would not be doing your duty to the dead. Kate, my dear, since speaking to you, I've realized that there is only one way out of your troubles."

"Yes, what is it?" she cried eagerly.

"Of course you can't marry your cousin?"

"Mr. Graham!" she cried indignantly.

“Of course that's impossible; and if you stay here you will face endless persecution and harassment that an overwrought, sensitive girl like you cannot fight.”

"You don't know me, Mr. Graham."

"Indeed? I believe it is true, for I have known you from an early age. You are strong in spirit, but you have been, and continue to be, weakened by disease under the circumstances, and it takes superhuman strength to fight in such a gruesome struggle to win. You mustn't risk it, Kate, my child. You must go."

"Yes, I feel like I know I have to go, but how can I? As a lawyer, you should know.”

"A lengthy and costly legal battle or an appeal to the chancellery could save you and a judge issue an order contrary to your father's wishes, but I would balk at such a course; I know too well the uncertainties of the law.”

"Then your idea of ??getting me out of my predicament is worthless," she said desperately.

"You haven't heard it," he said, "because I almost dread proposing that to your father's child."

"Tell me what it is," she said firmly.

"Do you want me to do it?"

"Naturally."

“It is this – a simple and effective way to checkmate someone who has proven themselves unworthy. My idea was that you should give me guardianship.”

“With pleasure, Mr. Graham; but is that doable?”

"It must and shall be done when you are ready, my child," he said firmly, "but it would require a very unusual, bold, and immediate step on your part."

"What is that, Mr. Graham?" she said softly.

"You must place yourself under my care immediately."

"At once?" she said and winced slightly.

"Yes. Think for yourself. This could not be done slowly and legally, for on the first suspicion that I was acting against him, James Walton would immediately place you entirely out of my reach and carefully ensure that I have no further communication with you."

"Yes," she said softly; "he would."

"Yes," he said, repeating her words and speaking slowly, dispassionately, matter-of-factly; "If the matter were postponed or if he was under siege, he would redouble his pressure. Kate, my dear, that was my idea; but it must sound almost as crazy to you as it does to me. Yes, it's impossible; I shouldn't have suggested such a thing, and yet I can't bring myself to give up any chance to save you from your dire situation."

He was silent, and she stood looking straight ahead for a few moments before locking her gaze on his.

"Tell me clearly what you mean, Mr. Graham."

"Just like that: I meant that you should take the opportunity that I'm here and leave immediately. The fly is waiting for me and I could take you to my townhouse and put you in the care of my housekeeper and her daughter. It would, of course, be a checkmate for your uncle, who might be brought to his knees; and then, as a price for your pardon, you could do something to help him out of his troubles. Possibly a modest payment to his creditors on favorable terms could free him. But my child, the project is too wild and chimerical. It must almost sound like a romance to you.”

She stood and looked deep into his eyes as he stopped speaking; and at the end of a minute he said softly, "Well, I can't let you talk here in the cold night air. Her chest is still tender; But strange as the visit may seem, I am glad I came, if only to give you a little comfort - to show you that you are not entirely alone in the world. Say good night there and of course you won't tell anyone about my visit. I have to go and get the night mail at the train station now. Tomorrow I'm going to see a very learned old lawyer friend and take the matter to him for his advice. Perhaps he will show me a way out of the difficulty. keep a good heart I gotta show you that you got someone acting like an uncle. But listen to me,” he said, taking her cold hand in his, “you must prepare for the encounters to come.” While I can tell I can help you, the law is slow and it can Months before you can be released from prison. So no twitching; Let James Walton and that villain Claud know they're dealing with a solid, strong-spirited woman; And now God bless you, my child! Good night!" So no twitching; Let James Walton and that villain Claud know they're dealing with a solid, strong-spirited woman; And now God bless you, my child! Good night!" So no twitching; Let James Walton and that villain Claud know they're dealing with a solid, strong-spirited woman; And now God bless you, my child! Good night!"

He dropped her hand and took a lap down the ladder; but she stood as if carved in marble in the bright moonlight without saying a word.

“Say good night, my love; and come stand firm.”

She didn't answer.

"You're not offended by my suggestion?" he said softly.

"No," she finally said, "I've been trying to weigh it. I need time.”

"Yes, you must have time. Think about it, my child; Maybe it will seem different to you tomorrow, or you will see it in a more impossible light. May I as well. You know my address: Bedford Row will find me. I'm well known in London. Write to me if you need help and I will come to you at any cost, even if I take the police with me to force my way. Well, good night, my love. Heyho! Why didn't I have a daughter like you?"

"Let me think," Kate said seriously.

"NO; This is no time to think, my child. Good night again."

"No," Kate said firmly. “I will trust you, Mr Graham. You must not leave me here as a prisoner."

“Perhaps they wouldn't dare; and I must warn you that you are taking a very unusual step.”

"Not about trusting you, sir," she said firmly. "Treat me as you treated the daughter who could have been born to you and save me from the situation I find myself in immediately. Wait while I go and wake Eliza up. She must be with us.”

"Your maid?" he said.

"Yes, I can't leave her here."

"You won't hold her captive," he said softly, "and she can join us later. No, my child, if you go with me now, it must be alone and immediately. I will not put any pressure on you. Come or stay, I still have to work for you as much as I can. Which should it be? Your hat and cloak or good night?”

“Don't leave me, Mr Graham. I'm still weak and hysterical. Now, after the chance at freedom you have shown me, I have a feeling that I will not dare face tomorrow alone.”

"Coming then?" he said in the same deep, dispassionate way.

"I shall."

Five minutes later, John Graham carefully helped her down the ladder, guarding her every step so she wouldn't fall; and when they reached the ground he softly offered her his arm.

"What a beautifully quiet and peaceful night!" he said seriously. "Do you feel the cold?"

"NO; "My cheeks are on fire," she replied.

"Ah! yes, a bit of excitement; but don't be alarmed. The fly awaits about half a mile away. A brisk walk will restore proper circulation. However, it would be almost a shame, my child, to take you from the clear pure air of the country to my gloomy house on Great Ormond Street, not far from your old home."

"Please don't speak to me, Mr. Graham," she said painfully.

"Preferably, my dear; and about anything that will divert your attention from the step you are taking. Are your shoes pretty tight? I can't let you suffer from wet feet. By the way, my dear, you were nineteen on your last birthday. You look much older. I thought so yesterday. Dear, dear, my poor wife would have lived, how she would have blessed me for bringing her daughter into our peaceful home! How would you have liked her, my love! A sweet, good, smart woman - so different from Maria Walton. Well, a good wife too, despite her weakness for her boy.”

He chattered on while Kate walked past him in silence until the fly was reached, while the horse chewed the grass by the roadside and the driver in the carriage was asleep but ready to wake at a word.

An hour later, Kate was sitting back in the corner of a first-class carriage as her strength failed and she burst into hysterical sobs. But she heard Graham's words:

"I'm glad to see that, my child. keep crying; It will relieve your overworked heart. Then you will be better. you did it right; never be afraid You can rest in peace tomorrow.”

Chapter twenty-two.

Jenny was almost breathless when she reached the mansion's park fences, a short distance from the gate at the end of the avenue; and here she paused a few moments under an oak which grew in the park, but like many others spread three or four huge horizontal boughs across the border path, making the path gloomy even on sunny days.

She looked back sharply in the direction from which she had come, but the evening was growing gloomier, and the mist, very much like a rain, was gathering rapidly, forming drops on the edges of dead leaves and twigs beside it the grass that protruded beyond the footpath so wet that the girl's feet and the bottoms of her skirts were soaked.

In this isolated place there was no one to be seen or likely to be there, and after catching her breath she set off again, heedless of the sticky mud of the path, and continued to follow him , past the park fences, where the fall goes thick and rustling, she lay there as her dress swept over her. In a few minutes she reached a stile, where a footpath - an old right of way to which Squire Walton, as the villagers called him, had great objection - ran through the small park and passed the house near the end. We drove through some bushes and came into another lane which curved and joined the main street at the other end of the village, a good mile from the doctor's cottage.

Lights were on in the drawing room and dining room, casting a dim glow on the thickening fog as Jenny stopped at the end of the bushes and everything was dead quiet until suddenly a dog barked and half a word answered a dozen others, pointers and retrievers , in the kennel next to the stables. This ended in a somber, irritating chorus that had the girl let out small, impatient exclamations as she waited for the noise to stop.

She looked around again, but the periwinkle grew close over an iron fence, and she satisfied herself that she could not possibly be seen from the house, as she could only make out the bushes ten or four yards away.

The barking continued at full speed for several minutes. Then dog after dog finished its part; the sextet became a quartet, a trio, a duet; and then a deep-voiced retriever played a powerful solo, ending with a long bay, and Jenny raised her hand to her lips as the hill chorus sounded again and the girl angrily stamped her foot in the wet grass.

"Oh what a cold I'm going to catch," she murmured. "Why do people keep these nasty dogs?"

The barking continued for a few more minutes, just as before, and then gradually broke off into another solo; but finally everything was quiet, even the small sighs and exclamations that Jenny had repeatedly uttered stopped. Then she raised her head quickly, and a high-pitched chirp sounded dead and muffled in the misty air, followed by two more.

It was no ordinary whistle, but a repetition of such a call as a night bird might utter in flight, hovering over the house.

The fog seemed to drown out the call and the girl was about to repeat it, but it was loud enough for the dogs to hear, and they barked violently, which continued until a loud tumult of howls and screams arose with them with the rattling of the chains, the same deep-mouthed dog this time erupts in a very different solo, suggesting he is suffering from the use of boot toes on his ribs.

Then there was silence, and Jenny raised the little silver whistle to her lips again with a trembling hand, and the shrill chirping sounded in its former suppressed way.

"Oh," Jenny sighed. "It's going to be a sore throat - I'm sure of it. I have to go back; I dare not stay longer. Pooh! How much I hate the little guy. I could kill him!"

The girl's pretty little white teeth gritted and she stamped one foot again and stamped the other in response to this sign of irritation.

"Cold as frogs," she murmured, "and the water's muddy in my boots. Misery!"

"Ullo!" came in a harsh whisper, followed by the cachination that is often accompanied by a grin. "Then you came!"

In front of her there was a rustling of bushes, and the vague figure of Claude climbed over the iron barrier, grabbed the girl's arm with his right hand and tried to throw his left hand around her waist, but she escaped.

"Stay away," she said sharply; "How dare you!"

"Because I love you so much, little Dicky Bird," he whispered.

"I thought you didn't want to come."

"No, you didn't, darling. I heard you first, but I had to go out and kick the dogs. They heard it too and thought it was poachers. But just one thing: follow me!”

"You!" she said scornfully. "You, sir! Who would come after you?"

"Yes, you would."

"What vanity!"

"Then why did you come?"

"To get that shitty little pipe back to you."

"Nonsense; you'd better keep that."

"I'm telling you, I don't want it. Take it, sir.”

"No, I won't take it. Keep it."

"So there it is," she cried; and she threw it at him.

"Went under the holly trees," he said. "Well, I won't bother looking for it in the dark. What a little fireworks that is! What's the matter with you tonight?'

"Matter enough. I came to tell you never to signal me to come out again.”

"Why? I'll tell you what mood you're in tonight. Here, let me help you and we'll go to the arbor. Standing there will get your feet wet."

"You're wet, and I hope I'll catch a cold and die."

"Oh I say Jenny!"

"Silence, sir! How dare you speak to me like that!”

"Then come over to the arbor."

"I kept telling you I would never do it!"

"You're a little tartar," he whispered. "You're getting prettier by the day, pecking and saying worse things to me. But I do not mind; It only makes me love you more and more."

"That's not true," she yelled angrily. "You're an evil storyteller and you know it."

"I am?"

"Yes; that's the same miserable, sickly tale you told half a dozen of the silly girls in the village. I know you well now. How dare you follow me and speak to me? When I mean it Brother said he would almost kill you."

"Perhaps, with a drop from one of his bottles."

"I can never forgive myself for listening to the silly, contemptuous flatteries of a worker's daughter's abandoned lover."

“Oh, I like that Jenny; What's the use of bringing all this up? That's so long ago. Only wild oats were sown.”

"The only variety you'll probably ever need to sow. I know everything now - everything; so go to her and never dare speak to me again.”

"What? Back to Sally? Well, you're a jealous little thing."

"Me, jealous - of you?" she said with contemptuous tone and demeanor.

"Yeah, that's what's the matter with you, little one. But carry on; I like that. Show me you love me."

"ME? Hahaha!" Jenny laughed mockingly. "Do you think I don't know everything?"

"I believe that. You are such a smart little vixen.”

"Do you think I haven't heard the news of your escape with your cousin?"

“I don't care what you heard; it is not true. But I say don't hold me back Jenny; You know I love you like - like everything else."

"Yes, everything," she replied angrily; "Everything - your dogs, your horses, your fishing rods and your rifle."

"Oh, I say."

"You miserable, deceitful cheater, I shouldn't have deigned to even speak to you or come out again tonight, but I wanted to tell you what I think of you, and there's no use treating such thick-skinned Creatures like you with disdain."

"Well you're wild tonight, little one. You don't want me to show my teeth and go too, do you?"

“Yes, and the sooner the better, sir; Go back to your wife.”

"Go back to my wife!" he yelled in a tone that convinced her ears. "Oh, I say; You've heard those tall tales, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir, I've got a handle on that miserable tall tale you turn so elegantly."

“Oh, I'm not into elegance, Jenny; it's not my style; but as for that flame, it is not true.”

"You dare tell me that when the whole place is ringing about it, sir!" she cried furiously.

"The whole place resounds with the din as this confused bunch takes turns ringing the bells. But it's just sound."

“Please don't try to be funny, Claud Walton; You only fail.”

"All right; go ahead."

"Dare you to tell me you didn't elope with your cousin the other night?"

“Say hang, little one; Elope is so old fashioned.”

"And I assume you married her for her money."

"Do you?" he said sullenly; "Then you suspect that you are dead wrong. It's all a lie.”

"So you didn't marry her?"

"No, I didn't marry her and I didn't put up with her; so now then."

"Dare you tell me you didn't go to London?"

"No, I'm not doing it because I did it."

"With her, in a most shameful, clandestine way?"

"NO; I went alone with a very funny good natured guy who everyone bullies and calls a liar."

“A nice companion; and pray who was that?”

“This guy – your darling; and I came back with him too.”

"Then where's your cousin?"

"How should I know?"

"So she left that same night?"

"Yeah. Freaked out after a fight we had."

"Is that true?"

“Every blessed word of it; and I haven't seen her since. Now tell me you are very sorry for everything you said.”

"Tell me that; did she go out with someone else?”

"What do you want to know?"

"I want to find out that you're not as bad a storyteller as I thought you were."

"Well, I told you that."

"Who can believe you?"

"You can. Come on, I say; when I heard the whistle, I thought you'd finally be a little affectionate with me. So far, it's been like courting a female porcupine."

"Do you know who your cousin went with?"

"Absolutely sure," he said, pouting.

"Who is it?"

"Well, if you must know, Harry Duncan."

"The cousin I saw here?"

"Yes, bless him! Just wait till we meet.”

"Oh!" called Jenny, and then she turned to go; but Claude caught her arm.

"No no; You could say something kind now that you've found out you're wrong.”

"Well, I will, Claude Walton. First of all, I never cared about you in the slightest, and..."

"Don't believe you. Keep going," he said, laughing.

"Secondly, take my advice and leave immediately, because if my brother were to meet you, there would be a terrible scene. He believes horrible things about you and I know he's going to kill you."

"Phew!" whistled Claude. "Then he found out?"

"Take my advice and go. He's terrible when awakened and I don't know what he would do."

"I'm saying that's not ham, is it?"

"It's the serious truth. Now let go of my arm; you hurt me."

"Well, everything is fine then, and maybe it's best that I go find Harry Duncan tonight. I should have left earlier, but I had to be with the governor and do some research."

"Then let go of my arm immediately and go before it's too late."

"It's too late," a voice thundered out of the darkness. "Jenny - sister - is that you?"

Chapter twenty three.

Jenny let out a little scream and stumbled against the iron barrier, a rain of drops falling on her head.

Lewis paid her no heed after his words, first in a threatening tone, then in a bitterly reproachful tone, but turned grimly to Claude.

"Now, sir," he called; "Have the goodness - you villain! You dog!"

He began in the manner taught by education, but nature was too strong. He broke off and tried to grab Claude by the throat; But as active as the animal was, the young fellow dodged the onslaught, put a hand on the hurdle and jumped between the bushes.

Lewis followed in time to take blow after blow as the branches Claude fell through snapped back, cutting his face and drenching him with water. But guided by the noise, he followed it as fast as he could until the rustling and crackling of the branches suddenly stopped and he stood on the soft turf of a lawn and listened to the next movement of his prey. but listen in vain.

A minute later the dogs began to bark violently and Lewis' thoughts turned to his sister. Then back to Claude, and he considered going to the house and insisting on seeing him. But his mind told him that he couldn't leave Jenny out in the wet and dark, and through clenched teeth in anger and desperation, he tried to find his way back to where he had come missing in the garden and came to He concluded that his sister had fled, for although he peered in all directions as he crossed the hurdles, he could see no sign of her in the misty darkness.

It happened to be no more than a dozen yards from where she was clinging to the dripping iron railing; And as he turned, with an angry exclamation, to go out of the way, her plaintive voice rose:

"Please take me with you, Claude," she said. "I am so weak and cold!"

With a stifled roar, he turned to her, grabbed her arm, pulled him under him, and made his way through the dripping grass, striding but not saying a word.

She kept pace with him as long as she could, crying bitterly and blinding herself with her tears so she couldn't see which way they were going. Twice she stumbled and would have fallen had he not gripped her arm so tightly, and when at last she was utterly unable to keep up with him, she was about to make a pathetic appeal when he stopped abruptly, for they had reached him the wet and muddy stile.

Here he let go of her arm and jumped into the street.

"Give me your hands," he shouted and she obeyed, and then when he reached over she climbed over the stile and finally stepped onto the top rail.

"Jump," he said sharply; She obeyed, but slipped as she dismounted, one foot skimming the muddy surface, and despite his strong grip on her hands, she fell sideways and let out a sharp cry.

"No hysterical nonsense, girl," he shouted. "Stand up!"

"I – I can't, Pierce. Oh, please, please don't be so cruel to me."

"Stand up!" he cried harder.

"My ankle is twisted under me," she said weakly. "I i -!"

A pathetic sight ended her speech, and she almost sank to her feet, completely limp, but a sudden twitch on his part saved her from falling onto her stomach.

Then he bent down and, utterly numb, took her in his arms, put her arm around his shoulders, and walked on, the passionate rage and indignation in his chest making him so nervous that she seemed to have no weight at all.

For another torment had hit him just when life had suddenly seemed unbearable and there were moments when it seemed impossible that the bright girl who had been like his own child to him for years should behave in such a treacherous manner could , such a feeble and shameful way of listening to the speeches of the young scoundrel who seemed to have ruined his life.

"And she always pretended to despise him so much," he said to himself. "Big sky! Are all women equal in their weakness and folly?”

At last he reached the hut, where all was now dark; but the door yielded to his touch, and he carried her in and laid her, still unfeeling, on the sofa.

As he lit a candle and held a candle in her face, he let out a deep sigh, for she was ghostly pale, her hair was wet and stuck to her temples, and he could see that she was covered in the sticky, yellowish clay of the field and the lane. But he steeled his chest against her. It was her punishment, he felt; Treating her like a patient and strange woman, he took off her wet cloak and hood, tossed her aside and examined her for the injury.

But little examination was needed, and his forehead deepened as he quickly produced a knife, slashing her wet boot from ankle to toe, exposing her foot.

Then he lit another candle, hurriedly went to his office and returned with splints and bandages to find her eyes open and that she was staring at him wildly.

"Where am I? What's the matter?" She was crying hysterically. "The terrible pain and sickness!"

"Home. Lie still," he said coldly. "Your ankle is terribly hard."

"Oh!" She sighed and the tears began to flow, accompanied by a pitiful sob as the meaning of it all came back.

He went back out and came back with a glass of some liquid, then put his hand under her head and lifted her up a little.

"Drink this," he said.

"No, no, I can't take it. You hurt me terribly."

"I can't help it. Drink!"

He pressed the glass to her lips and she drank the disgusting ammonia mixture.

"Now lie still. I won't hurt you more than I can help, but I need to see if the bone is broken and fix it."

"No, no, not Pierce yet," she sobbed; "I couldn't take it while I was in this state. Let me tell you – let me explain to you first.”

"Be silent!" he cried furiously. "I don't want to hear a word. I need to take care of your ankle before it swells and work becomes impossible.”

"It doesn't matter, dear. I have to tell you," she cried pathetically.

"I know everything I want to know," he said bitterly; “That the sister I trusted and believed in cruelly deceived me – the one I trusted to be sweet, true and innocent, played a role that would shame one of the village women if you would even see her talking to that boy.” A scoundrel would rob her of character under such circumstances. And this is my sister! Now lie still. I need to bandage this pain.”

"Oh, Pierce, dear Pierce! "You're hurting me more than I can take," she sobbed. for he had fallen to one knee while speaking and had begun manipulating the injured joint.

"I can't help it; you have to endure it. It won't be long now.

"I don't mean that, my dear; I can take it," she moaned. "It's your cruel words that hurt me so much. How can you tell me something like that?"

"Shut up, I'm telling you. I can only take care of it. If neglected, it can leave you crippled for life.”

"Very good," she said with a passionate cry; "Let me be lame for life - let me die of it if you want, but you must, you must listen to me, dear."

"I'm not going to listen to you now - I never will. You destroyed my faith in you and I can never believe in you or trust you again.”

"But you shall listen to me," she cried; and with an effort that caused her the greatest pain, she sat up and clutched her knees. "You shall not touch me again until you listen to me. There!"

"Don't act like a madwoman," he said sternly. “Sit back in your seat; you harm yourself more by your folly.”

"It is not folly," she cried; "I don't let my own brother misjudge me that much. Pierce, Pierce, I'm not the bad girl you think I am."

"I'm glad of it," he said coldly; "Even if you're at the mercy of shame."

"Ashamed to say such words to me."

"Maybe I was wrong when I thought I found you there with your lover tonight."

"My lover!" She was crying hysterically.

"Now lie down and let me bandage your ankle, or do I have to put chloroform on you?"

"You shouldn't do anything until you listen to me," she yelled wildly. "He's not my lover. I never had a lover, Pierce. I went there tonight to tell him to go because I was afraid you might meet him. I was shaking with fear, you were so wild and strange."

"Were you afraid I might kill him?" he said with an angry look in his eyes.

"Yes, or that he might kill you. Pierce, my dear, if I deceived you, it's because I loved you and fought your battle."

As a matter of fact! he said bitterly.

"He's been looking after me and has been coming here ever since we got to the house. I couldn't go to the village or take a walk without him meeting me. He made my life hateful for me.”

"And you couldn't ask your brother for help and protection?"

"I wanted to do it, love, but things happened in such a way that I decided to keep quiet. No, no, don't touch me until you hear everything. I found out how much you love poor Kate."

"Will you be silent!" he raged.

"No, not if I die for it. I found out how much you love Kate and I soon knew that's exactly what they meant - that awful boy, all the while trying to tell me his addresses. Then I decided to encourage him just a little bit - to nurture him so that Kate could see how utterly despicable and unworthy he was, because I could continue to nurture him until one day she surprised us together. Then it would all have been over at once, because she would never have listened to him. Can you hear me? I tried to deceive him, but instead he deceived me and stole my own brother's love from me."

"What do you mean fooling yourself?" he yelled when his attention was finally caught.

“We were all wrong, dear; I found out tonight. He didn't take Kate."

"What! They were spotted together by the poaching tramp Barker, the guy the zoo keeper shot, and I was there. He was watching them."

"No, dear; Back then it wasn't Kate who was with him, it was me. Kate is gone and he's angry about it."

"Gone? With them?"

"With - with - oh! Pierce, Pierce! say a kind word to me; Tell me you love me and believe me darling. I'm hot, the evil creature, you think, and - and - do I die? Is that death?”

He quickly put her back and hastily began bathing her temples, but stopped immediately.

"Better," he murmured; and then, with trembling hands, which rapidly grew stronger, he examined the injury, and acted with such dexterity that, when a soft sigh announced that the poor girl was coming to her senses, he was just laying the injured limb in a comfortable position, before he got up take her hand in his.

Chapter twenty-four.

Kate Walton needed all her mental strength to withstand the depression her self-inflicted situation brought on. As she leaned back in a corner of the car, dimly lit by a lamp with a lot of thick oil floating in it, she could see that Graham was either asleep in the corner diagonal to hers, or assumed so, and was for the moment it was a relief to her, as she felt it was due to his kindness and consideration.

But the next moment she was in agony and blaming herself bitterly for what now seemed like a hasty, foolish action on her part.

Then, as her mental distress increased, she tried to fight that thought by telling herself that she had acted wisely, for it would have been madness to have stayed in Northwood and risked further insults from her cousin, now where she knew exactly what her uncle was up to. For she knew that an appeal to her aunt would be useless, as this lady was a slave to her son's whims and her husband's strict desires, and was quite willing to believe that whatever they said or did was right.

And so it went on during the slow night's journey to London, her brain becoming more and more bewildered by the strangeness of her position and the lack of her natural calm, until the thrashing of her thoughts seemed somehow connected with the thick oil in the great glass bubble of one Lamp and with the stopping of the train and the rolling and clinking of the big milk cans that were picked up at different stations.

Finally her feverish waking dream was ended, as it seemed to her, by Graham suddenly jumping up as if from sleep, rubbing his condensed breath off the windowpane, and looking out.

"London lights," he said. – "Asleep, my dear?"

'No, Mr Graham. I was up the whole time thinking.”

“Of course you would. What an absurd, inappropriate question. There you see what it means to be an unfeeling middle-aged man. I'm afraid we're getting very selfish. Instead of trying to comfort you and chat gently, I curl up like a big black cat and fall asleep.”

She didn't answer. The words wouldn't come.

"Cold, dear?"

"NO. I'm hot and I have a fever."

“Of course, nervous anxiety. But try to master it. We'll be home soon and you can have a good cup of tea and go to bed. A good, long sleep will set you right, and you won't think about what a horrible act you committed in escaping in that nightly, stealthy way. Sounds great doesn't it, after a very quiet, sensible move on the chessboard of life - one that effectively keeps James Walton and that nice young pawn, his son, in check. There, there, don't fidget, pray. I have also thought about it and wondered if I have done my duty to Robert Walton's child by taking you away and I can only come up with one answer - yes; while conscience says

"Thank you, Mr. Graham," Kate said frankly, extending her hand. "I was incredibly excited and ready to blame myself for taking such a step. Assure me I did the right thing?”

"What, come with me, my love?" he said after simply squeezing her hand and letting it fall again. "Of course I do. I had a little doubt at first, but after my nap my head is clearer and I'll tell you as an experienced man that you did the only thing you could do under the circumstances. This night's journey upsets you and upsets you a little, but I'm terrified that some of you in Northwood will fare far worse, and you're right."

"Poor Liza will be horrified," Kate said. "I wish I had begged harder for you to bring them too."

"Ah, poor woman! "I'm sorry for her," Graham said thoughtfully. “Servants of this devotional nature are very rare. It is an insult to call them servants; They are very dear and valuable friends. But think for a moment, my dear. Waking her from her sleep and telling her to get dressed and come with you – to go on the run with you would have seemed such a crazy move at the time that it would have resulted in her alerting the house or at least would have thwarted our project. She would never have let you come."

"I'm afraid you're right," Kate said with a sigh.

“Of that I am sure, my child; but you must communicate with her immediately. She must not be held in suspense for an hour longer than we can help. Let's see, I need to find a way to get a letter to her. – Ah, here we are.”

For the train had slowed down during their conversation and was now gliding gently along the platform of the large, dimly lit station.

A porter jumped onto the running board as he rolled down the window.

"Luggage, sir?"

"NO. Is the refreshment room open?"

"Yes indeed."

"That's enough then," said Graham and pressed a coin into the man's hand. "Well then, my dear, let's go for a hot cup of tea."

"I really couldn't touch anything now, Mr. Graham," Kate said.

“That's what you probably said about your medicine when you were a little girl; But I must be a doctor and I must tell you that it is necessary to remove this nervous tremor and restlessness; and besides, you have a little pity on me.”

She smiled faintly as he carried her out of the carriage and allowed herself to be led to the cheerless refreshment room in charge of a couple of girls who looked particularly sleepy and irritable but very rarely consoled themselves with the railway drink, a cup of freshly made tea.

"I'm sure it will make you feel better," Graham said as he took his companion's arm under his and led her out of the station, ignoring offers from cab driver after cab driver. "A nice little brisk walk will get your blood pumping, and then we'll take a cab and go home."

She agreed, and he led her at a brisk pace through the gas-lit streets, passing few people except for a policeman, who eyed her intently, and the men busy in squads paving the streets of the to sweep town; but after a quarter of an hour he raised his hand to the sleepy-looking quadricycle driver, handed in his companion, gave the man his instructions, then followed her, sat opposite her, and pulled the car to the window as the wretched vehicle pulled away and that Glass rattled and shook so that conversation became difficult.

"There!" said Graham cheerfully; "Now, my dear, I will confess to a great deal of ruse and cunning."

She looked at him nervously.

"It's a lousy cab and I could have gotten a much better one from the train station, but now you've come off to find peace, quiet and happiness, haven't you?"

"I hope so, Mr. Graham."

'Yes, and you must have these three necessities of a young girl's life or John Graham will know why. So first of all, I didn't want James Walton and his unlicked cub to come into town sometime this morning and enlist the services of a clever officer to question the porters at the terminus until he found the man who questioned me Baggage, and then this man tells you he called cab number nine million and something to evict us. Then, for the benefit of that stupid class of passengers who always leave their umbrellas and bags on the seats, they would keep records of which taxis arrive and where they go. Those records would be reviewed, found nine million and such, questioned, and ready to confirm the entry where we wanted to go; and the next thing would have been that Uncle James and Cousin Claude would have stopped by my house and insisted on seeing you and there would have been a desperate argument as a result which would have upset you and made me start doing things again to say that would make me repent. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," she said seriously; "They will not follow us now."

"I hope not, but it's no use being sure. I take every possible precaution; and finally I go where I told the man to go - in Russell Square; and we shall walk the rest of the way.”

Kate was silent, for a vague terror was beginning to oppress her, which her companion's bright, cheerful demeanor was only able to dispel with difficulty.

"It's no use being sure about anything, but if they find out you came with me, this procedure will throw them off track. Your uncle doesn't know I have a house on Great Ormond Street. Of course he knows about my offices on Bedford Row and my flat in Chislehurst where Harry Duncan lives with me - if he deigns to be at home. Come on, you seem happier and happier now, but you won't be well until you've had a good, long sleep."

Very little was said for the rest of the journey, the cab pulling up at the end of the narrow passage near Southampton Row where there was no passage for horses; and after the man had paid, Graham led his companion along the sidewalk as if to enter one of the houses, and walked slowly until the cab had driven away. Then he quickened his pace, leading the way into the great square, along one side towards the east, and finally stopping abruptly in front of a gloomy-looking red-brick mansion in Great Ormond Street--a house that seemed in the gloom of the morning , just before dawn, had something prison-like about it that made the girl shiver.

"Strange how cold it is just before dawn," Graham said as he walked up the steps, glancing sharply left and right. In a moment a key had opened the heavy door and they were standing in a great hall only faintly seen to be full of shadows until Graham struck a match, held it under a glass sphere and revealed the proportions of the place. They were spacious and accentuated by rich carpets and old oak presses full of blue china, while here and there were pictures that looked old and good.

"Welcome home, my child," Graham said with tender respect. "Things are looking bleak now, but you are tired, weak, and weighed down by difficulties. This way."

He led the girl to a door at the foot of a wide staircase, opened it, entered the room, and struck a match again to aim at a couple of large globes held by bronze figures on the large carved oak mantel. And as the beautiful, old-fashioned room was lit up, he paused and struck a match to the paper of a well-lit fire, which began to burn briskly, adding the warmth and splendor of its flames, and the cheerful crackle of the wood to the light of the globes.

"So," he continued, pushing a large leather-covered chair in front of the fire, "take off your hat but leave your cloak on until the room warms up. It will be true soon.”

She obeyed, trying to stand her ground, but her hands shook a little as she meanwhile glanced around at her strange surroundings and saw that the room was heavy but richly furnished, and much of the paneled oak wall was taken up by large carved cupboards , which were full of strange china, while plates and vases were plentifully placed on consoles or hung on hooks wherever space permitted. These softened the heaviness of the thick curtains on a stained-glass window and over the doors, which lay in folds on the thick Persian carpet, while as the fire burned, a thousand tiny reflections came from the glaze of the china and the brightly polished wood as hands could create.

"You did not know that I am a great collector of these things, my dear. I hope that you will gradually become interested in them. But first, let me say this: I hope that you will consider this quiet old house both your sanctuary and your home, that you will be its mistress as long as you wish, and give the servants your orders for whatever is put in your way the sense comes missing."

"You've been very good to me, Mr. Graham," Kate faltered, feeling the vague terror she had been suffering from wearing off.

"Good? Absurd! Then you don't mind being alone for a few minutes? I'll wake my housekeeper and her daughter. Rather an early call."

As he spoke, a large clock above the mantelpiece began to chime musically, then the hour was indicated in deep, rich, vibrant tones.

"It's been a long time since I got up at five in the morning," Graham said cheerfully. "Ha! soon a big fire. Becky is very skilled at starting fires. You'll find her and her mother rather quaint, but they're devoted to me. Excellent servants. I've never seen anyone else's house so clean. I won't stay there long."

He gave her a friendly smile and left the room, while Kate, as the door closed and the heavy folds of the portiere fell down, sank back into her chair and quickly shed the tears that had been accumulating for hours. Then she sat up with a sigh and hastily wiped her eyes as if relieved and ready to face this new change of fortune.

Graham's few minutes turned out to be nearly a quarter of an hour, during which Kate, after a glance or two around the room, sat and pondered while her ideas settled first in one direction, then ebbed away in the other, feeling like she'd gotten it wrong predominating ; But the reappearance of her new guardian altered her course once more, and she could feel nothing but gratitude to one whose every thought seemed to be to make her position bearable.

"I couldn't be mad at them," he said as he entered; "But it's amazing how people can sleep when they have no worries or troubles in the world. Now the two of them have nothing else on their minds other than looking after this house, which I got through an old client and which I very rarely stay in! and I believe they spend half their time dozing in existence. If the truth were known, they were in bed at 9 a.m. last night, sleeping so soundly that the apartment could have burned down without them waking up.”

"It seems a shame to disturb her," Kate said with a faint smile.

"What? Not at all, my child. Do them good; they want to get out of their lethargy. I've told them to prepare a bedroom for you and I should advise you to back off as soon as they say it's ready. There is no fear of dampness as fires are always burning in the rooms and Sarah Parker is extremely trustworthy. Sleep well and lately and sometime in the afternoon we will discuss ways and means. You must go shopping and I must Play Guardian and carry the packages. By the way, you'll want some money. Do you have any?"

"I have a few pounds, Mr. Graham."

“Maybe that's enough for now; If not, please consider that you have unlimited credit with your bank. I'm that banker until you can declare yourself independent. So don't be afraid to ask for what you need. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

"No, Mr Graham; just to find a way to get Eliza here."

“Oh yes, of course, I won't forget that; but we must be careful. We don't want any more fighting. It's bad for you and it upsets me. Ah, they are ready.”

At that moment there was a soft knock on the door.

"Upstairs is your bedroom, and I hope you will find it comfortable. No trees to watch out for; no flowers; no bright full moon; lots of brick, mortar and chimneys; but there is rest and peace for you, my child; So go and believe that I am ready to fight your battles and make you happy here. I can if you just help me."

"I'll try, Mr. Graham," she said with a faint smile.

"Then it's a fait accompli," he replied, holding out his hand. "Good night - I mean good morning. Sarah is waiting to show you to your room.”

She placed her hand in his for a few moments, and then, too much heart for words, she hurried to the door and walked into the hallway, where she found an odd-looking, dry, elderly woman standing on the skin mat at the foot of the stairs , holding a massive silver bedroom candlestick, stared at her curiously, but was ready to look straight down.

"This way, please, miss," she said in a tearful voice; and she began to climb the low, broad, thickly carpeted stairway, holding the candle before her, and showing her gaunt, angular body against a faint gleam of light.

Kate followed in wonder, feeling as if she were in a dream, while Graham paced slowly between his cupboards, gently rubbing his hands and smiling oddly.

"Promises well," he said softly; "Promises well, but I still have work to do and I wasn't expecting Harry Duncan."

He paused, thinking, and then involuntarily looked up to find that he was facing a strange old Venetian mirror that clearly reflected the upper part of his figure.

He winced slightly, then stood and looked at the clearly visible image of his face, which he finally smiled at in an odd way.

"Not that old," he said quietly; "A woman is a woman, and it all comes down to how you play your cards."

"But there's Harry. Oh, I can't count without him."

Chapter twenty-five.

Kate's conductor had stopped at a first-floor door with an old portrait hanging above it, so as the woman held the candle she wore above the level of her head, the physically and mentally exhausted girl felt like two people She eyed her warily, and she happily entered the old-fashioned, nicely furnished room and stood by the newly lit fire, which together with the candles on the mantelpiece and dressing table gave it a cheerful, welcoming look.

She couldn't have explained why, but the sight of the woman was like dead leaves, and the sad, plaintive tone of her voice was like the wind sighing in the windows of the old house in Northwood.

"I took off a few lumps of coal, Miss, because Becky always gets on too much," the woman said plaintively, as she resumed her former stance, holding up the candle and looking at the newcomer. "I always tell her that if she gets married and pays for the coal herself, she knows what it costs, although I certainly don't know who she would marry. I'll put them back if you want."

"Fire will be plentiful - it wasn't necessary," Kate said wearily. "I just want to rest."

"Of course you do, Miss," said the woman, still watching her with a wrinkled face and half-closed eyes. "And you don't have to be afraid of the bed. Everything is bone dry. Becky and I slept in it two nights ago. We sleep in a different bed every night to air everyone, as the Master is very careful about humidity.”

"Thank you; I'm sure you did what was necessary," said Kate, disturbed in her faint state of nervousness by the woman's insistent, questioning gaze.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Miss?"

"No thanks. I am very tired and will try to sleep.”

"Because I can bring you a cup of tea soon, miss."

"Not now, thanks. In the morning. I won't bother you now."

"It's tomorrow morning, my dear, and I have nothing to worry about," the woman said desperately, "except Becky."

"Thank you, but please leave me now."

"Yes, Miss, of course. There are the bells: one rings upstairs and the other downstairs, so it's safest to ring both, for it's a big house - yes," she went on thoughtfully, "a very big house, and you don't know where Becky and..." maybe me."

"Ah," Kate sighed when she was finally freed from the persistent, curious gaze, for the door had closed; But as she sank wearily into a lounge chair, the housekeeper seemed to have been photographed in her brain, and one moment she was staring at her with a candle above her head, the next it was the pretty woman's face over the door, questioning looked down when i wonder to see her there.

The candles burned brightly and the fire crackled and blazed, and then there was a strange rumble, as if the train were speeding through the black night; The room darkened and shrank in proportion until it was the somber first-class carriage, its oil floating in the thick glass-bubble lamp, while John Graham leaned back in the corner and Kate jumped up, trembling. She lifted her head and looked around, mentally wondering where she was, and shivered as she recognized the fire and candles on the mantelpiece.

She glanced at the folded bed, looking inviting under the thick dark curtains, and felt it would be better to lie down and rest, but figured she'd close the door first.

She got to her feet, after waiting a few moments to clear her head, and continued across the soft carpet toward the dark door, which receded further and further as she walked, seeming given the strength to see through it was a strange transparency. Behind was John Graham, beckoning them over, always at the same distance, till it grew darker and then lighter, for the fire was blazing and the wood crackling, when the sound of a noise was heard The poker being set back in the fender; And there, as she opened her eyes wide, the woman with the chamber candlestick stood high above her head, looking at her questioningly in the old way.

"It's part of a nightmarish dream," Kate said to herself; "My head is confused with anger and lack of calm." And as she leaned back uneasily in the chair, fully expecting the woman's face to give way to that over the door, and then to John Graham, walking slowly on and on and gesturing for her to leave Northwood Manor House, where her aunt and uncle tried to take her to the church, where Claude was waiting, and Doctor Lewis and his sister stood in deep mourning, looking at her with reproachful eyes.

As her mind ran, she pictured everything in her mind with a vividness that was most odd, and she quickly slipped back into unconsciousness as the woman spoke, and she drew back, her head perfectly clear, while feeling odd Her features tightened with anger.

"Awake, Fraulein?" said the woman plaintively.

"Yes yes; why did you come back? I'll ring if I want you - both bells."

“There was the fire, Miss; I couldn't give that up, I had to come every hour and I let it stand too long now and had to start it with a bundle of wood."

Kate sat up and stared at her, then looked around the room and saw that four candles were burning on the mantelpiece and dressing table.

"Didn't you hear me putting the new ones up, miss, did you?" said the woman, noticing the direction of her gaze. "The others only burned until twelve."

"Burned to twelve - come every hour? Why, what time is it?”

"Just hit three, miss. Breakfast is ready as soon as you are. but you would have been much better if you had gone to bed. I put you in a clean nightgown and it was beautifully aired. Becky held it in front of the kitchen fire for quite a while as it just wanted to be cooked together and burned well.”

"I – I don't understand," Kate faltered. "Three o'clock?"

"Yes ma'am; and as black as the pitch outside. Normal London fog, but Master went out in it anyway. He said he'd be back for supper and you mustn't be disturbed under any circumstances, as all you wanted was a good night's sleep.

"Then I slept soundly?"

"Yes woman; about ten hours I would say; but you would have been much better if you had gone to bed. It relieves the spine and is so easy on."

Kate got up, staggered slightly, and grabbed the back of the chair, but the dizziness subsided and she went to the window.

"I can't see anything in the back, Miss," the woman said, sadly shaking her head. “The old master hated the tiles and chimneys and had double windows made inside – all painted glass, but if they weren't there you couldn't see anything. It is black as night, and the fog seeps in from every crack. What should I do for you, miss?”

"Nothing thanks."

"Then I'll take care of breakfast, miss. I take it, it won't be long now?”

Kate took another deep breath, trying to fight the horrible feeling of depression and alienation that was nagging at her. She hurried to the dressing-table, which was well furnished, and after about half an hour she went out. He walked up the broad, gas-lit staircase and glanced at the pictures, cupboards, and statues with which it was furnished. As she then turned to descend, she became aware that she was not alone, for vaguely she saw a strange, ghostly-looking head, tied with a broad white handkerchief, peering through the door of another room, but as soon as the owner noticed That she had attracted attention, she pulled away and Kate shuddered slightly, the face looking wild and strange in the dim light.

The stairway looked broader and fairer as she descended into the room to which she had been placed on her arrival, and found it well lit, and a merry fire blazing; but she had scarcely had time to look round when the woman appeared at the door.

"Breakfast is ready, miss," she said. "Would you please come here?"

She led the way down the hall, pausing, turning back to a door and pushing it open a little.

"Big library, Miss. The small library is upstairs in the back two rooms. There's a good fire here. Would you like to see it now?"

"No, not now."

"This way, miss," and the woman opened a door on the other side.

"Dining room, Miss. There is no living room; But the master said this morning that if you wished he would have the large front room converted into one. I'll put your breakfast near the fire because it's a bit chilly today."

Kate thought she might as well have said 'Tonight' as she looked around the formal but richly furnished room, which looked attractive and good with its light brass fireplace and breakfast spread on a small table.

'I made you some tea, miss, because I thought you'd like it better; but I'll have some coffee ready soon if you prefer. Best tea, Master attaches great importance to things being good.”

"I prefer tea," Kate said quietly as she took her seat, feeling more and more how strange and unreal everything seemed to her.

And now the size of the step she had taken was beginning to come to the fore, mixed with a tedious repetition of thoughts of Northwood and what must have happened since the morning her flight was first spotted. She knew her uncle's anger would be terrible! Then her cousin! She couldn't help but imagine his anger as he realized she had gotten away from him. What would her aunt and servants think of her behavior? And then she felt a burning sensation in her cheeks as she thought of Lewis and his sister, the only people she had come to appreciate during her stay in Northwood.

And somehow the burning in her cheeks increased until tears welled up in her eyes as, as if the heat had been quenched, she turned pale with grief and despair, for she felt how strongly she had left someone in Jenny Lewis, almost unknowingly had developed a genuine sisterly affection for whom she was.

From that moment the struggle she was having to appear calm and at home intensified and she pushed away the cup and saucer and got up from the table just as the housekeeper, who had been coming and going several times, re-entered.

"But you haven't done that yet, miss?" she said plaintively.

"Yes thank you; I'm not very well this morning," Kate said hastily.

"As anyone could see, Miss, with half an eye; but of course something is wrong.”

"Something wrong?" Kate faltered.

"Yes, Miss," the woman said in an obnoxious tone. "The tea wasn't strong enough or the sole wasn't to your liking."

"Don't think that, woman - woman -"

"Parker is my name, miss - Sarah Parker, and Becky is Becky. Please don't call me a woman; I am only the servant.”

"Well, don't think that, Sarah Parker. Everything was especially nice, except this morning – I mean, today – I don't have an appetite.”

"You really mean that, miss?"

"Of course I do."

"Thank you, Miss. I tried very hard because the Master was very picky. He's always picky, almost like Mr. Jennings; But this morning he was extra, and poor dear old master was never like that. If you wish, miss, I'll send Becky over to tidy up, and you might like to see your new house. I hope you find everything to your satisfaction.”

"My new house?"

"Yes woman; the Lord said it is yours and we should consider you our mistress and do whatever you wish, as if you were his daughter who came to keep house for him. Please this way, Miss."

Kate was ready to say that she wanted to sit down and write, for her heart was filled with self-reproach, and she longed to share her feelings with her old, trusted maid; but the thought that it might be better to follow Graham's wishes, and take the position he had intended for her, made her relent and follow the housekeeper from the room.

The woman touched a doorbell in the hall, then drew back a little in a show of respect, her eyes still eager and filled with compassion, studying the new mistress she had been commanded to obey.

"Are you going first, ma'am?"

"No: be good enough to show me what I need to see."

"Oh, the master said to show you anything that pleases you, miss - I mean, ma'am. It's a terribly dark day to show you, but I've got gas everywhere and it warms the house comfortably and keeps the moisture out.”

Kate felt like asking the woman a few questions, but she shied away from speaking and followed her fairly closely until she came to a halt on the first floor landing, in front of a heavy curtain that appeared to be covering a window.

"I hope you find everything to your satisfaction, ma'am - that the house has been properly maintained."

"Everything I've seen shows the utmost care," Kate said.

"Thank you, ma'am," the woman said, and her next words immediately caught the attention of her companion, for the desire within her was strong to know more about her new guardian's private life, although she felt it impossible to question. “You see, the Master is so seldom here that there is no encouragement to spend much time cleaning and dusting, and oh, the times have come to me like a wicked temptation to put things off until tomorrow; but I fought back, knowing that if I did it once, Becky was sure to do it twice. You see, the Master is mostly at his other house when not in his offices, where only snacks and lunches are brought to him on trays; But now everything will be different, he tells me, and the house needs proper maintenance,

"Then Mrs. Graham didn't live here?"

"Oh no, madam! nor the lady of the old master - not in my time."

"Mr. Graham's father?”

"Oh no, ma'am: Mr. Jennings, who had it before the Lord and - and here - I mean there - died," the woman said in a whisper, nodding her head at the heavy curtain. "It was Mr. Jennings' house, and he collected all the books, china, and foreign curios. I'll tell you all about it one day, ma'am.”

"Thanks," Kate said softly. “I'm going to the library now; I want to write."

"There's pen, ink and paper in there, ma'am," the woman said, tossing her head to the side. "And you can see the little library at the same time."

"I'd rather put that off for another time."

"Hah!" came in a deep, deep sigh, as if relieved, and Kate turned quickly in surprise to see the very face with the handkerchief tied around it that she had seen earlier.

It was immediately withdrawn to one of the rooms and Kate directed her questioning gaze directly at the housekeeper.

"It's only Becky, ma'am - my girl. She followed us all along to get a look at you. I kept shaking my head but she would come.”

"Is she unwell - facial pain?" asked Kate.

“Well, no, ma'am, not now. A year ago she had it very bad but it got better and she will still be tied up for fear it will come back. She says it would drive her insane if it did; and when I get her to stop, all she does is mope and cry, so I let her carry on. She's a poor, nervous girl and she's never been right since she lost the milkman."

'Lost the milkman?' said Kate, puzzled.

"He went and married someone else, madam, and had money to start a business. I know women have a lot to endure in this life. Then you won't go to the little library today, ma'am?”

"No, not today," Kate said with an involuntary shiver that made the woman look at her curiously, and another deep sigh of relief came from the next room.

"Cold, ma'am?"

"Yes, no. "A little nervous and annoyed with traveling," said Kate; and she went straight down to the library, sat down at the old-fashioned saffron-covered table, glanced at the well-stocked bookshelves and the solid, rich Atmosphere of comfort, with the blazing fire and the dim gaslight illuminating the place She took an addressed paper and began to write quickly, explaining everything to her old maid, citing the urgency of her position as an excuse for leaving and asked that "the dear old wet nurse" would come to her immediately.

From time to time she paused to look around, for the stillness of the place oppressed her; and in her nervous, anxious state, suffering from feelings of having done something wrong, there were moments when she could hardly hold back the tears.

But she finished her long, loving letter, gave it direction, turned, and stared into the fire for a few minutes, contemplating whether to do anything that came to her mind.

There didn't seem to be any reason why she shouldn't text Jennie Lewis, but at the same time there was something undefined and strange that kept her from communicating; But finally she had made her decision, and with a firmer face, she turned back to the table and began to write another letter.

"Why should I have hesitated?" she said softly; "I'm sure she likes me very much, and she'll find it very strange if I don't write." But somehow the color in her cheeks darkened a little, and as she continued to write, she felt a slight glow, her letter subconsciously penetrating was formulated in very loving words; However, when she finished and read it again, she found that she was far more detailed than she had intended, fully engaging with her feelings and the horror and shame she had felt when she did learned how her cousin had been left alone with her, detailing his behavior; and finally, in full, the scene in which Mr. Graham protected her and spoke up, through to the unveiling of the family plans.

"Please don't think I've acted stupid, dear Jenny," she said in an addendum. "It may seem girlish and strange, but I was driven to act the way I did. I didn't dare stay; And besides being a relative in a way, Mr Graham is so fatherly and kind that I felt quite safe and at ease. Please write to me soon. I would be very happy to hear that, for I am afraid I will be quite lonely; and tell your brother how grateful I am for his attention. Thanks to him I am much better and stronger now.”

The glow in her cheeks was a little more intense here, and she paused, intending to rewrite the letter and omit any reference to Doctor Lewis, but felt it ungrateful to someone to whose skill she owed so much would appear; and although she felt herself shrinking nervously, the desire to let him see that she was grateful was very strong.

With that the letter was finished and corrected.

But she still hesitated, reaching out twice to take the writing and destroy it, while her brain became restless and confused.

"I can't think," she finally said to herself with a sigh; "My brain seems tired and confused." and then she jumped up from her chair, startled, for Graham was standing in the room, the thick curtains and soft carpet preventing him from approaching; and indeed for some minutes he had stood directly in the heavy portiere and watched her.

Chapter twenty-six.

"Of course; "Yes," she said eagerly.

"Yes, it definitely was," he said, still speaking in the same calm, thoughtful way. "You got me thinking too, my love, if I did the right thing in bringing you here. Yes," he said, turning sharply to her, "I am sure, considering it a temporary institution. Yes, it is correct, my child. But maybe we should look into it right away - if you feel up to it, and now that we have time and aren't afraid of interruptions - and think about what distant relatives or what friends you have, and invite the person who is most suitable, that is, the person you would prefer—always assuming that person has the strength to protect you. Then he or she shall be called

"I don't want to be ungrateful to you, Mr. Graham."

"You're ungrateful! It's not in your nature, my love. But what do you think of my proposal?”

"I think it's right and what I should do," she replied.

“Well then you will do it, my dear child; but of course you can't do that tonight. It is a very important step that you must choose consciously and after careful consideration. In the meantime, Great Ormond Street is your temporary resting place where you can rest assured and plan at your leisure. As far as I'm concerned, I'm your older relative and we, my wife Parker and I, are pleased that your coming will bring an end to the monotony of the place. Is that correct now? – Does it calm your little fluttering heart?”

“Yes, thank you, Mr Graham. I – I'm very relieved.”

“Very well, let's put aside all the 'worries that weigh on the day', as the poet puts it, and have a quiet, restful evening. They need it, and I must confess that I am not in what the country folk call my usual condition. You're looking better. I see how it is. Your mind is more relaxed.”

She smiled.

"That's right; and by the way, like a man, I didn't think of it until I got to my office to see some letters. I did ask Ms. Parker to try and put things right for you, but it never occurred to me that a lady is not like a man.”

She looked at him in surprise.

"I mean that a man can get by with a clean collar, a toothbrush and a pocket comb, while a lady -"

He stopped and smiled.

"Now look, my child," he said, "I'm going to leave you for a few minutes while you ring the bell and wake up Mrs. Parker. You can always give her directions about essentials and she can pick you up while we are at dinner. Other things you can get yourself if you like.”

"Thank you, Mr. Graham," Kate said, her eyes growing more confident as she rose from her seat and placed her hands in his.

"No, no, please don't," he said with a pleasant smile as he gently returned the squeeze of her hands and then dropped them. "Let's see, dinner in half an hour." He checked his watch. "Please don't take me for a foodie, I believe in my dinner. because I work very hard and I find that I have to eat. I'll leave you there for a while."

He put his book on the table, nodded and smiled, and left the room while Kate stood with tears in her eyes, watching him go, feeling that the cloud hanging over her was getting lighter and that she would find rest.

She rang the bell and Sarah Parker appeared, head on one side, looking more weathered than ever, and the needs of the moment were explained to her.

"Yes, madam," said the woman plaintively; "Of course I'll go, only that's dinner, and if I wait until then the shops will be closed. I don't think you or your master would want Becky waiting on the table with her face tied and if I get her to take off the handkerchief she'll go into hysterical screams and that'll be worse. And then – would you mind looking out, ma'am?”

She walked slowly to the window and pulled aside one of the heavy curtains.

Kate followed her, looked and turned to the woman.

"Pull up the blinds," she said.

There was a faint smile and a shake of the head.

“It's upstairs, ma'am, and it's been like this all day – pitch black. The plagues of Egypt could not have been worse.”

"Oh, you can't walk," Kate said quickly. "What should I do?"

“Well, ma'am, if you don't mind, I could tell you. You see, the Lord came here when Mr. Jennings died, and nothing has been taken away since. It's just as it was years ago when Mrs. Jennings was alive. There are drawers and drawers and wardrobes full of everything a lady could possibly want; And not a week goes by that I don't spend hours sorting through them, folding them and airing them, and I spend shillings and shillings on lavender every year. So if you don't mind-"

Sarah Parker didn't finish her sentence but looked pleadingly at the visitor.

"You find it impossible to go out, Ms. Parker."

"Sarah, if you don't mind, ma'am, and it's very kind of you to say so."

"Well, Sarah," Kate said, smiling, feeling more at ease, "you're going to help me get through this difficulty. Now go and attend to your duties. I do not wish Mr Graham to be alarmed by my visit.”

"Troubled, my dear young lady! I'm sure he would be happy about anything. I'm not inclined to chatter and gossip, and as I've told Becky many times, she would have been a happier girl if she'd been more obedient to me and hadn't been stupid enough to talk to milkmen. But I can't help but tell you what I heard this morning, Master saying to himself after giving me my commands: “Ah,” he says very quietly, “if I had a child like that and of course he meant you, Fraulein.

Dramatically speaking, this meant Sarah Parker's departure, but Kate called her back.

'Would you mind making sure these two letters are posted? Do you have stamps?”

"There's plenty in this little booth, ma'am," the woman said, pointing at the table. and when a pair was in place, the woman took the letters out with her.

About half an hour later Graham walked in, smiled kindly and offered his arm.

"Dinner awaits," he said, ushering his guest into the dining room, where, over a well-served meal, everything tasted of the best taste, he struggled to reinforce the sense of confidence he saw growing in Kate's eyes .

His conversation was clever if not brilliant; he showed that he had a strong mind and his demeanor was filled with chivalrous respect; As Kate felt calmer, she found herself drawn to him and the size of her stride diminished in her worried eyes.

Dinner was over and they sat over dessert, while Graham sipped his one glass of red wine very moderately from time to time, and there was silence for a few minutes, during which he regarded the girl thoughtfully.

'The nicest meal I've eaten in years,' he said suddenly, 'and I'd hate to break the charm, but it's time the lady of the house got up. Will you take the curiosity into the living room and send for me when the tea is brought? I can't wait to come as I enjoy so little of simple domesticity.”

Kate thought of Sarah Parker's words: "Ah, if only I had had a child like that!" and the feeling of calm and confidence only grew as Graham got up and crossed the room to open the door for her.

"By the way, there's just one more thing, my dear child," he said seriously.

Kate winced and her hand went to her chest.

"Don't worry," he said, smiling, "this is just a small thing in your interest. They are quickly overcoming the shock of the riots of the past twenty-four hours, but are unable to take any more.”

"My uncle!" exclaimed Kate excitedly.

"Exactly," Graham said firmly. "See, the mere mention of trouble makes your heart rush. Those letters lying on the hall table, ready to be mailed: is it wise to mail them and hurry him here with his distinguished son? Yes, I know neither applies to him, but he would know where you were as soon as he saw your letter in his pocket.”

"Mr. Graham, don't you think he would dare open a letter addressed to my maid?"

"Yes," said Graham calmly; "Unfortunately I do."

Chapter twenty-seven.

Claud Walton went looking for his cousin with greater zeal, finding it much more comfortable being where he was unlikely to come into contact with Pierce Lewis, for there was something about the gentleman's manner that he didn't like. He knew his ability to mend bones, for he had realized what happened when one worker fell off a haystack and another fell asleep while riding on the shafts of a wagon, diving under the wheels and both breaking their legs; But all this indicated that he was also capable of breaking bones, and as he recalled whipping a horse at the hunting ground from the brother of a young lady to whom he had been too polite, he scrupulously avoided taking further risks.

"I don't have the money, my boy," said Walton; "But this is a case where we must spare no expense."

"Are you going to Scotland Yard and letting the detectives work?"

"For heaven's sake, no, boy! We must be our own detectives and hunt them down. Curse the young villain. I could have known he was up to no good. One hell of a poacher on our turf, boy.”

“Yes, Governor; and he handled the game.”

'Then you must track him down, and when you find out where he is, report to me; I have to be at the meeting.”

"What? Wasting time like that! No, boss; I'll half kill him - if I don't, I'll hang myself."

"No no! I know you feel ready for this—a villain—but that's not enough. You'll only scare the poor girl more and she'll cling to him instead of getting away with you."

"But, boss-"

“Don't hesitate, boy; I tell you I'm right. Let's get Kate away from him and then you can break every bone in his skin if you want."

"But I want to teach him a lesson right now."

'Yes, of course you do - but Kate and her fortune, my boy. As soon as you're on the lead, wire me. I will be staying at Day's on Surrey Street.”

"Suppose you went abroad, boss?"

"Well, follow them - around the world if need be. By the way, you've always been very fond of Harry; Has there ever been an affair between men of the world? You know what I mean."

"A lot, dad."

"Ah! – Have you ever married either of them?”

"He does not."

"It's a shame," Walton said, "because it would have made things so much easier." Alright, here we go. The dog cart is in front of the door.

Claud patted his bag and headed for the train station and stayed at a larger hotel than the quiet little place his father owned; and about twelve o'clock the next day he appeared in Graham's office, where Barlow, the old clerk, was busy answering letters for his employer to sign.

"Morning, Barlow," Claude said, "Mr. Harry in his room?”

"Mr Harry, sir? no sir I thought he was with you shooting and hunting.

"Ah? Did he say he was going to Northwood?”

"Well, my dear! Really, Mr. Claude Walton, sir, I'm not sure. I think I heard him say something about Northwood; but whether he went there or returned from there I really do not know. Lots of pheasants this season?”

"Oh, forget the pheasants," cried Claude impatiently. "When was it?"

"My goodness," the man said thoughtfully; "When was that - Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday -?"

"Thursday, Friday, Saturday," Claude called impatiently. "What a dawdling old buffer you are! Come on, when was it? You must know?"

"Really, sir, I'm not sure."

"Was it this week?"

"I don't want to say that, sir."

"Well, last week then?"

"It could have been, sir."

"Yah!" growled Claude. "You think he's down in Chislehurst?"

"Maybe he is, sir."

"Yes, and he might be in Jericho."

"Yes; but excuse me, there was a knock."

The clerk shuffled out of his chair and headed for the door to let in a new visitor in the person of Walton Pere.

"Ah, Claude, my boy! Are you here?"

“Yes, father, I am here; Just come,” the young man said pouting.

"Well, did you find her?"

"Do I look like I found her, dad? NO."

"Do-do-do!" cried Walton, looking pale and exhausted with fear. "Mr. Graham, Mr. Barlow?"

"Yes sir," said the clerk; "Shall I say you're here?"

"Yes," said Walton. "Take my card and tell him I'd be grateful if he interviewed me."

The old clerk bowed and left the outer office for the inside, while Walton turned to his son and said hastily, "You may as well come in with me as you are here."

"No thanks; Thank you very much. Why did you come here? Don't you think he probably knows?"

"Yes, I do," Walton said in a low voice. "I believe that young Harry kidnapped her and that he is helping him. You have to come in with me: we have to work together.”

"Mr. Graham will see you, gentlemen,” the old clerk said as he entered.

"Men's!" Claude muttered angrily to his father.

"Yes, don't let me down, my boy," Walton whispered; and Claude noticed a tremor in his father's voice and saw that he looked nervous and worried.

Walton made way for his son to enter first, the young man retired for his father, and matters were jeopardized by their entering together. Graham, looking perfectly calm, rose to show them their places; and then there were a few moments of silence, during which Claude tapped his teeth with the ivory handle of the cane he carried, his eyes fixed on his father, who was not sure how to begin.

"May I ask why I am favored with this visit, gentlemen?" said Graham at last.

This startled Walton, who coughed, pulled himself together, looked the speaker squarely in the face, and said sharply:

"We came, Mr. John Graham, assuming we should be expected."

"Expected?" said Graham, turning a little more from his table and crossing one well-formed leg over the other so that he could clasp his ankle with both hands. "Well, I'll be honest with you, James Walton; There were moments when I thought it was possible that you could come; I don't want to apologize, I just want to talk to myself about this poor girl's future. How is she doing?"

Father and son exchanged looks, the former was obviously taken aback.

"Well," Graham said, not looking for an answer to that question; 'I'm glad you came in a friendly mood; I'd love to get to know you the same way, so please get in touch. Let's not have a fence. Tell me what you intend to do.”

Walton coughed again and looked at his son.

"You must see," said Graham firmly, "that a new arrangement should be made immediately." seems suitable for this purpose. The large fortune that the poor child is about to inherit acts as a lure, of course, and there must be no danger of the poor girl being subjected to the persistent advances of any thoughtless boy who wants to handle her money.”

"I say look here," called Claude, "if you want to start a fight, say so and I'll go."

"I don't feel like starting a quarrel, young man," Graham answered sternly; "And I wouldn't have spoken like that if you hadn't come to see me. Perhaps you had better stay, sir, and listen to what your father has to say, unless he has already confided in you.”

"Well, he didn't," Claude said sullenly. "Go ahead boss and get it over with."

“Yes, James Walton, please go ahead as your son is suggesting and get this over with. My time is valuable, and in such a case between relatives, I cannot charge for legal services. Now what do you suggest again?”

"About what?" said Walton bluntly.

"About your niece's future home?"

"Ah, this is what I came to do," Walton said, looking sternly at the other. "Where is she?"

Graham looked at him blankly for a few moments.

"Where is she?" he finally said. "What do you think?"

"What I'm saying: Where's Kate Walton?"

"Where is she?" cried Graham, changing his demeanor and now speaking with an expression of eagerness quite different from his calm, dignified manner a few minutes earlier. "Why won't you say she's gone?"

"Yes, I mean to say that she is gone."

"Bravo!" cried Graham, laying down the leg he was breastfeeding and slapping him hard across the face. "The brave little thing! I didn't think she had what it takes."

"You can't do that, John Graham," Walton said sourly; "And it's no use acting. Lawyer is your job, not acting. Now I want to know where she is.”

"How should I know, man? She was not entrusted to me.”

"You know, sir, because it was in your interest to know. It's not the first time I've seen you play your cards, but you don't play them well: you'd better fold your hand."

"Look here, James Walton," Graham said, looking at him curiously; "Did you come here to insult me ??with your suspicions? Do you think I had anything to do with that young lady leaving your roof?”

"Yes, I do, and a lot," Walton cried angrily. "You can't fool me, even if you can trap and trick me. Do you think I'm blind?"

"Very much in some ways," said Graham scornfully -

"Then I'm not there. I see through your plans very clearly, but you're being scrutinized. Where's your boy?'

"I don't have a boy," Graham said scornfully.

"Well, where's your stepson then?"

"I don't know, James Walton. Harry Duncan was, as your son here would say, teethed a long time ago. I haven't seen him since he came to you. But surely,' he cried, jumping up excitedly, 'don't you think—'

"Yes, I think so, sir," Walton called, getting up as well; "I'm sure that young villain kidnapped her. Since she's been there he's been hanging around with me as much as he can and courting her as much as he could and you know it as well as I do, the villain convinced her she was being abused and lured her away ."

"From Jove!" Graham said quietly, looking thoughtfully at the carpet and apparently hardly hearing a word in his amazement at this announcement.

"Hear what I'm saying, sir?" Walton yelled fiercely, for he was utterly angry now; "do you hear me?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Graham called, struggling to get up. "Well, and if it is as you suspect, then what? Ruthless as he is, Harry Duncan would make her as good a husband as Claude Walton, and even better, for he is not related to her by blood.”

"You dare to tell me that!" Walton thundered.

"Yes, of course," Graham said coolly. "Why not?"

“Then you know; you are stuck at the end of it all; You helped him kidnap her.”

"I swear I didn't," Graham said quietly. “For the poor girl's sake I wouldn't have done such a thing. It may be possible, just as likely as your boy here, to try to win the girl and her fortune, but I solemnly swear I have not helped him in any way.”

"Then tell me, as a man - as a gentleman, you didn't know he kidnapped her?"

"As a man, as a gentleman, I'll tell you that I didn't know he had kidnapped her. Furthermore, I tell you that I do not believe it. Tell me more. How and when did she leave? When did you miss her?"

"The night before last - no, no, I mean the next morning, after you left. She had gone in the night.

Graham's hand shot out and he grabbed Walton's shoulder in a fierce grip, his lip trembling and his face twitching as he looked at him with a look of horror on his face.

"James Walton," he said hoarsely, "You're jumping to conclusions, but did anyone see you disappear?"

"No nobody."

"You don't think-"

"You think what, man? what came to you?”

"She was in terrible trouble, suffering, and going into her room was hysterical," Graham continued, his voice dropping to almost a whisper, and giving as fine an acting as could have been seen offstage . "Is it possible that in her distress and desperation she left the house and—"

He stopped speaking and stood, lips parted, staring at his visitor, who changed color and quickly calmed down.

"No, no," he said, pausing to keep his voice. "Impossible! Absurd! I know what you mean; but no, no. A young girl wouldn't do that just because her cousin kissed her."

"But she was ill and very weak and sensitive."

“Oh yes, and the doctor helped her. No no. "She wouldn't do that," Walton said hastily. “It is as I say. Come on, Claude, my boy, we can't seem to do any good here. Let's move on. Good morning John Graham; I will get help. I intend to hunt them down.

"You should know her best, James Walton, and perhaps my judgment was too hasty. Yes, I think I agree with you: such a sweet, sincere and well-balanced girl would never take refuge in such a terrible way. Maybe we'll find out she's with a distant relative after all."

"Maybe," Walton said hastily. "Come on, Claude, my boy," and he went straight out without looking left or right, and was silent until they crossed Russell Square.

"I say, Governor," Claud said, licking his lips before speaking as if they were dry, "you don't think so, do you?" That's what the mother said."

"No, no, impossible. Of course not. She couldn't. I think we might as well go back, though,” and for a moment he completely forgot about the ladder that stood on the windowsill.

And as they walked on, they were completely unaware that Graham's earnest older employee was following them at a distance, glancing every other direction after his employer had chased him out with the words:

"See where they're going."

Then John Graham sat down in front of the good fire in his private room and began to think about the interview he had just conducted while thinking he was smiling.

Chapter twenty eight.

Kate gave in very reluctantly, but felt compelled to give in to what she felt was a reasonable view of the issue.

"If you write now, we're going to have endless problems," Graham said. "Your uncle will come here and I will be forced to give you up."

"But I would refuse to go," Kate said emphatically.

Graham smiled and shrugged.

"As an old lawyer, would you give me credit, my dear child, for knowing a little about the law?"

"Of course," she called.

"Well, I'm telling you, when James Walton finds out where you are, I expect endless trouble. Do you know his projects?”

Kate nodded quickly.

“He will stop at nothing to implement these plans, not even violence. But suppose I beat him in that, for I tell you frankly that I should make every effort, and he would put the law into action. If I get the best possible advice, we're going to have a long, tedious legal battle, and your late father's estate is likely to be thrown into the firm. You will become a ward of the Lord Chancellor and the repercussions on your fortune will be terrible.”

"I don't think I should care," Kate said, looking at him wistfully, "as long as I can be at peace."

"Have you thought of a relative or friend who you can trust and who you would like to go to?"

"NO; not yet," Kate said wearily; "and I've tried very hard."

"Then don't try it, my child," he said with a smile, "then maybe the idea will come up. I should say though," he added playfully, "try trying not to succeed, because I don't want you to go." It's like something has changed in my life, and like the man in one of the old plays I would have discovered a long lost child.”

"Pray, don't take it lightly, Mr. Graham," Kate said. "All of this worries me terribly. I feel so helpless."

"Believe me, when I talk lightly, I think very, very seriously about your position," Graham said quickly. "I know how painful it must be for you to neglect your friends, the ones you would write to, but I really do have a duty to advocate restraint for now. I will have your letters posted if you wish, but I am bound to show you the consequences that must follow.”

Kate sighed, looking more and more concerned.

"To put it more bluntly," Graham continued, "My position is that I have a large practice, I serve a lot of clients, so I have to be very far away." Suppose one morning while I'm out James Walton and his family come by son over. What are you going to do?"

Kate shivered and looked at him helplessly.

"I'm not going to like it much if I come home for dinner and find you gone."

"My situation is terrible," Kate said. "I almost wish I was penniless."

“Come, come, not so terrible; It's just that of a prisoner whose cell door is bolted on the inside so she can open it whenever she wants. May I try to give you a little advice?”

"Yes, pray, pray, Mr. Graham."

'Well, my advice is this - even if it troubles your poor old nurse greatly. She will be satisfied later when she learns it was to your advantage. My advice is that you try to settle down here for a while to see how things go or until you decide where it would be better for you.”

She looked at him wistfully.

"Couldn't I get an apartment somewhere and let Eliza do the housework for me?"

"Well, yes," he said thoughtfully. "It would be risky, for your old servant's every move is being jealousy watched right now. Later would be better. What do you think?"

"That I don't want to appear ungrateful for your kindness, nor do I feel entitled to burden you with much trouble or expense."

"Phew, phew," he said happily, "I'm not so poor that I can't afford some pleasures." But real pride is a beautiful thing. There you shall be independent and pay me everything back when you come of age.”

He glanced at his watch because breakfast had been over for some time and they were sitting talking.

"I'm keeping you, Mr. Graham," she said.

"Well, I'd like to be kept, but I have several appointments today. Think well and quietly while I'm gone and we'll talk about it again tonight."

"No," Kate said quietly, "then you'll be tired. I'll take your advice, Mr Graham."

"Yes?" he said, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"I shall remain here for a time where, as you say, I can be at rest and safe from intruders. We'll see what time brings."

"Spoken like a thoughtful, wise little woman," Graham said without the slightest hint of elation. "By the way, can you find plenty of books to read?"

"Oh yes, and I've studied the old china."

“A very interesting subject; but music – you love music. We have to see that.”

He nodded and smiled, and then she saw him become very calm and thoughtful, as if absorbed in his business affairs.

Once again she was all alone and thought she had been a whole week in the solemn old house and a few minutes later the housekeeper came in to put away the breakfast things.

"Is there anything I can do for you, ma'am?" the woman said sadly when she had finished her task, while Kate noticed the occasional whispering outside the door as the various items were distributed.

"No, I don't think so, this morning, Sarah," Kate said with a smile that proved contagious, for the woman stood for a moment staring at her in amazement, and then her own expression stiffened stiffly as if she hadn't smiled in years until her face looked almost happy.

"You look good, ma'am," she said; "I've never seen you like this since you've been here."

"Why doesn't Becky come in to help you tidy up?" Kate said to change the conversation, and Sarah Parker's face went serious and dry again as she shook her head.

"She's a real head turner, ma'am, with the handkerchief around her head."

“I shouldn't mind; I haven't seen her properly since I arrived.

"No, ma'am, and neither will you, if she can help it. You might not mind, but you do. She always hides when someone is around. Poor girl, she's been in trouble almost since she was born. There will surely be something in this life. Not how I complain about Master. It was the same with the old master, and when he died Becky was even worse off. You see, madam, the old gentleman's wife was ill for a long time, and that made the house dull and still; And then she died, and the old master was never the same. He spent tens of thousands of pounds on furniture, books and china and did everything he could to make the place beautiful, but he never held his head up high again. And then his money kinda went wrong and a new gentleman came along to help him out of his troubles. but it was no use; The old master never raised the blinds again; And that made Becky and I different from most people because back then it was like being locked in a closet and we almost never went out. Becky hasn't left the house for many years."

"We must make the house happier now, Sarah."

The woman looked at her in surprise and then shook her head.

“Well ma'am, I have to say that since you arrived I have felt differently; but no - it's beautifully decorated and I've never seen a better kitchen in my life - but cheer up? No, ma'am, that's not possible.”

"We'll see," Kate said smiling, and the woman's face relaxed again as she studied the beautiful, intellectual face in front of her as if it were a beautiful object that brought her true pleasure; But as Kate's smile faded, her own features looked dull and she shook her head.

"No madam, I believe so, for the house was meant to be a boring house before the big trouble came. Me and Becky used to tell each other it was like the sun went out but we never expected what came at the end or I think we should have run away."

Moments before, Kate had contemplated firing the housekeeper for her job, but this hint of something that had happened caught her attention, and the woman continued.

'You see, the old master was getting worse and worse, although Mr Graham came and minded his business; And one day the doctor says to me, "It's no use Mrs. Parker, there's nothing I can do for a man who shuts himself up and disregards all the laws of nature." Those were his words, ma'am; I remembered them because I never quite knew what they meant; but the doctor obviously thought that Master had done something wrong, although I don't think he ever did because he was such a good man. Then this morning came, ma'am. I might as well tell you now. Becky slept with me then as now, but that was before she had facial pain and seizures. I remember it as best as I can. It was just in the daylight in autumn, when the men were carrying the onion strings around and I nudged her and said 'Time to get up Becky.' and she yawned and got up and went back downstairs because she kept getting dressed faster than I could. And there I was, getting dressed, thinking that the master had told me that Mr. Graham would be in at ten o'clock and I should send him to the library at once, and breakfast should be ready there.

"I had just put my cap on, ma'am, and was about to go downstairs when I heard the most horrible scream ever and sank shivering into a chair, for I was so sure there were burglars in the house, and they had my poor Becky murdered. I was so scared that I got up and staggered to the door and locked it and bolted it because I told them not to murder me. But, oh my god; what I suffered! "You're kind of a mother," I tell myself, "take care of yourself and let poor Becky be blown to pieces to hide her crime."

"It stabbed me in the heart, ma'am, and I opened the door again and went out and listened and all was still as still. You know how quiet this house can be, ma'am, don't you?"

Kate nodded.

"So I stood shivering at the top of the house because we slept up there before Becky started going downstairs where you wouldn't be likely to see her; And though I listened and listened, there was no sound and I played it back to myself. "Why," I say, "a cat would scratch if you tried to take her kitten to drown it" - I know that ma'am, for I've tried - "and you stand there and do nothing for yourself.' poor girl.' That woke me, madam, and I went downstairs, while the stairway was quite dark and the light came only from the sooty skylight in the roof; and there were the china cabinets and the statues in the dark corners, all of which seemed to be looking down at something on the first floor. I was ready to fall a dozen times but I felt that I had to go even if I died for it; and I went down step by step

“But I couldn't see anything and I stopped on the first floor, looking over the railing, trying to see if the hallway door was open; but no, I couldn't see anything, and I walked sideways, still looking down, until I saw that the dining room door was open and it seemed to me that the screeching had come from there. I was right across from the door that led to the two small libraries - you know, ma'am, where the big curtain is - and took another step to the side to look a little more and then call Master who did it apparently didn't hear when I caught my foot on something, cried out, and fell. And then I realized it was poor Becky who had just crawled out the door on her hands and knees.

"I couldn't say a word for a minute, but when I did and asked her what was going on, she just knelt there, clinging to my dress and staring at me with a face that was horrible to look at.

"'What is it - what is it?' I kept saying this but she couldn't speak, just knelt and stared at me until I grabbed her shoulders and shook her vigorously. "Why don't you speak?" I say. 'What is it?'

"She just said 'Oh' - it was a regular moan and she slowly turned her head to look back down the little library corridor and then turned and hid her face in my petticoats.

"'Tell me what it is, Becky,' I say more gently, because it didn't seem like anything was going to happen to us, but she couldn't speak, just pointed to the small library door behind her. and that made me tremble, because I knew there must be something terrible. Eventually I tried to get away from her, afraid she might think I was a coward, but she clung to me so tightly that I couldn't get my dress out for a long time. But finally I did and went through the door into the small lobby. but there was nothing, and the door of the library was locked; and I was just coming back when I felt Becky grab my arm and point again and then I saw what I hadn't seen before; There were footprints on the freshly made carpet and I saw that Becky must have made them as she walked towards the library door; and there was reason

Chapter twenty-nine.

Kate Walton looked at the woman in horror.

"Yes ma'am," Sarah continued, "there it was and when I opened the door I could only get it a little way because there was just something in there and as I stood there shaking there was a nasty Wet out gunpowder smell, like water kicked up on the stove.

“I didn't want to tell anything, ma'am; I knew, and poor Becky knew, that Master had shot himself with something and was lying there.

"I only waited a minute or so, ma'am, because my senses seemed to be dead and I was just as bad as poor Becky; but I soon got a little sane and started to feel that I had to do something. I called Becky to come and help me, but it was no use; She was stunned and could only stare at me while shaking. So I felt like I had to do what had to be done myself and I went back to the door and pushed and pushed until I could just squeeze through the small slit I had made; And then I stopped looking around and stood with my back to it for quite a while until I felt that maybe he was still alive and that I should go to the doctor.

"Then I looked around and when I turned around I felt like I should cry out, but I didn't. Poor sir, he was lying on his side, hand under his head, just still and calm, like he had just fallen asleep. I wondered what I was afraid of and I got on one knee and took the hand that was by his side and touched a gun.”

"Yes?" said Kate breathlessly because the woman stopped.

“Yes, ma'am, it was pretty cold. He must have shot himself early that night, and I knew there was no point in getting a doctor back then. At least I think that's what I felt, because I didn't go, but crept out very quietly and closed the door; And then I grabbed poor Becky by the arm and led her into the kitchen, where she passed out completely, came to, and fainted again - one fit after another so I was busy for hours and didn't I know how time passed until suddenly there was two knocks on the door and I knew that Mr. Graham had come.

"I went up and let him in and he looked at me so strangely.

"'What is it?' he said, "Your lord?"

"'Yes sir,' I say, 'and I should show you in as soon as you come.'

"He nodded and immediately went upstairs without us saying another word. Then he gently walked in through the door and came out again, looking terribly shocked.

"When did you find him?' he said; and I told him. 'Poor guy!' He says, "I'm not surprised." "Sarah Parker, you must go and tell the police." and I did, and there was an inquest, and eventually the poor old master was to be buried, and only Mr. Graham should follow him because he had no relatives or friends.

"I sat in my Noo Black dress and Becky right across from me and I waited while they went to the cemetery because no one asked me to go there and I sat there ????looking at Becky who started crying as they carried her and heard the coffin down and didn't stop the whole time. And I thought to myself, "We two must go out into the world, and no one's going to put us up with poor Becky like that." And my heart was so full, miss-ma'am, that I began to cry too; but I'm afraid it was for myself and not for the poor master. The carriage came back last, and I let in Mr. Graham, who looked terribly battered.

"'Bring me some tea, Sarah,' he says, and I'll get him and have a cup too, because I really wanted it, and little by little he'd call me to get the tray.

"I got it at the door when he called me back.

"'Sarah,' he says, 'your poor master has no relatives and from the papers I have, everything falls to me.'

"'Yeah sir; 'So I thought,' I'll tell him, 'and you want me and Becky to leave right now.'

"He looked at me with his nice, soft smile and said, 'Why would you think that?' No,” he says, “I want things to stay the way they are; I won't let anything move and I'd be very happy if you and Becky stayed and kept the house to myself.'

"I could not answer him, madam, for I wept bitterly; But I knew him, what a good man he was and that me and Becky had found a friend. Seven years ago, ma'am, and never an unkind word from him when he came in, which wasn't often. He just told me not to gossip about the place and I said I wouldn't and never did until I spoke to you ma'am and as for poor Becky she never speaks with no one. You might want to come upstairs, ma'am, and look at the markings."

"See the markings?" Kate stammered.

“Yes, ma'am, where the old master lay. You've never been to the little library, but if you want I'll show you now. There's just a little rug that you have to move and it's just there.”

"No, no, I don't want to see it," Kate said, shuddering. "So there was a terrible tragedy here?"

“Yes, ma'am, and that's what makes the place so dull and quiet. I often feel as if I see the poor old master gliding about the stairs and corridors; but of course everything is chic.”

"All chic, of course," Kate said softly. "But it's very terrible that something like this happened here."

“Yes, madam, I often think so; and there were times when I was depressed; And you know there are times when you get like that. Becky is enough, at best, to make anyone chubby, especially at night when she sits with her face tied up and stares at the door, imagining she'll see the Master come in; for she will believe in ghosts and there is no use trying to stop her. Ah, it is a great test, ma'am."

"Poor girl!" said Kate.

"Thank you ma'am. "It's very kind of you to say that," the woman sighed. "And it's nice to have a lady here to talk to. It changed the place quite a bit. There were times and many of them that I felt I had to take poor Becky and have a different situation but it would be ungrateful to the new gentleman who is a dear good man and never says an unkind word because with him I am I've been. It's not everyone who would have a maid in the house with a girl like Becky. But he doesn't seem to mind since he's a busy man, and I suppose he must realize that Becky's only happy when she's cleaning and polishing things. I think if she woke up in the middle of the night and remembered that she hadn't dusted anything she'd like to get up and do it; and she would too, if she dared. But go around the house in the middle of the night without me, ma'am? NO; wild horses would not drag them.”

Sarah Parker stopped speaking, for she awoke suddenly to find Kate staring at the fire with obviously distant thoughts; and the woman quietly slipped out of the room. But as the door slammed softly, Kate winced and looked around, almost ready to call her back, for the story she had heard made her position seem terribly lonely.

She restrained herself, however, and sat trying to think and change the course of her thoughts, telling herself she had nothing to worry about except for Eliza's sake. Because Graham could not have been more fatherly and considerate of her. His words were also wise and right. Telling her uncle where she was was bound to lead to stormy and violent scenes; and she finally decided to let her self-appointed guardian guide her entirely.

"Yes, he's right. He is very kind and fatherly in his own way, and I too would be ungrateful if I grumbled about my position. It won't be long now. In less than two years I will be of legal age and fully my own mistress.”

She paused to think because a doubt rose.

Would she be her own lover? She had heard her father's will read out, but it was at a time when she was distracted with grief, and besides realizing that she was the heir to a great fortune that would remain invested in her father's old bank should, she was comparatively ignorant of the control her uncle possessed. Yes; She recalled that he was sole executor and guardian until their marriage.

"And I will never marry," she sighed; but when the words were uttered, scenes ensued again in the old manor; the pleasant little intimacy with Jenny Lewis, her praise for her brother, and that brother's manly, kind attention to his patient, whose skills went so much towards healing her.

Yes, he had always been the attentive, courteous doctor, and neither word nor look had indicated that he was anything else; But these things are a mystery beyond human control, and as Kate Walton sat and thought, Pierce Lewis was with her in spirit and she was startled; for the telltale blood covered her cheeks, and she rose hastily to do something to change her train of thought.

"Poor Mr. Graham," she said softly; "He won't find me ungrateful. He too has suffered. If only he had had a daughter like that!”

She remembered his words, which were obviously not intended for her ears. Without a wife, without children, wealthy and yet lonely.

Her heart warmed to him, and she was willing to call herself selfish for forcing her desires on a person whose only thought seemed to be to protect her and enable her to lead a peaceful life.

"He won't find me selfish," she told herself, "and I'll let him guide me and do what he thinks is right."

She walked into the solemn-looking hall and began to climb the grand staircase, showing renewed interest in the place that now seemed like it might be her home for months to come. The pictures and statues interested her, and she paused in front of a cupboard of strange old china, partly to admire it, partly to think of how ignorant she was of all these things, and a few minutes later found herself in the Near the heavy curtain, behind it was the door that led to the small library.

A strange excitement ran through her, and as she turned and hurried into her own room, her cheeks grew pale. But the blood flowed back, and with a feeling of self-loathing she went straight to the curtain, drew it aside, went through an archway, and turned the handle of a door. This opened into a passageway, the walls of which were lined with venerable looking books, and a dim skylight above revealed the faded leather and worn gilding on their spines. At the end was another door, and as the woman's tale came to her attention again, she felt a fresh shiver that made her shiver. but she went on resolutely, opened the door and passed through to find herself in the first of two rooms connected by a wide opening,

She shuddered again, for she was standing on one of several small Persian rugs scattered across the dark, polished floor, and from the woman's description she knew it must be where the house's previous owner had lain dead .

But the feeling of fear was temporary, and the warm blush of life returned to her cheeks as she said softly:

"What is there to fear?" and then she repeated:

"'There is no death! What seems so is transition;

This life of mortal breath

Is just a suburb of Elysian life

Whose portal we call Death.'

"Oh, father - father!" she moaned softly; "But I'm so lonely without you;" and she sank into a chair and cried bitterly.

The tears brought relief and firmness, and dry-eyed, she walked slowly from room to room, thinking of the one who had once walked these boards - a sad and lonely man.

Somehow her thoughts brought her back to Graham, who seemed so noble and chivalrous in his demeanor, and that he too was a sad and lonely man, for she had heard in the past that his marriage had been unhappy.

A few minutes later, when she let the curtain fall behind her and was back on the stairs, a change had taken place in her, and despite the slight redness and moisture in her eyes, she looked brighter and calmer, until she caught a glimpse of a caught a strangely wild pair of staring eyes staring at her from one of the darkened doors in horror and wonder until her owner realized the fact that she was being watched and fled.

"Poor Becky!" thought Kate as she smiled sadly? "I have to try and befriend her now."

chapter thirty.

The days with Kate Walton passed quite quietly, and nothing more was said about communication with anyone on either side. Graham was there at breakfast and went until dinner when he returned on time.

Kate read and worked and waited for him to say something. In doing so, she endeavored to convey to her guardian through her demeanor that she was trying to show him her gratitude for all that he had done. And so a fortnight passed, and since she could bear it no longer, she decided to question him.

That evening Graham came in tired and worried. Obviously there were some difficulties along the way, and getting up to greet him, she felt she was not allowed to speak that night, for her new guardian had enough troubles of his own to deal with.

But he started right away as he took her hands and smiled gravely as he looked into her eyes.

"Now, my poor little prisoner," he said, half jokingly, "aren't you utterly exhausted and longing, little bird, to bang your chest against the bars of your cage?"

"No," she said softly; "I'm getting used to it now."

"Brave little bird!" he said, raising both hands to his lips and kissing them before dropping them; "Then I'll come back one evening and hear you sing one more time. I haven't heard you sing since the last night I spent in Bedford Square, many months ago."

He saw her expression change and hastily continued:

"By the way, did Sarah Parker buy you everything you need?"

"Oh yes," she said; "much more."

"That's right. I'm so ignorant of such things. Please don't hesitate to give her orders. You know," he continued as he sat down and began to warm his hands while frowning at the fire , "I did something full of fear and trembling today."

"As a matter of fact?" she said, worried.

"Yes," he said thoughtfully as he picked up the poker and began gently tapping chunks of unburned coal into glowing holes. "My conscience has tormented me terribly because of you, my child. I'm coming back after all day thinking about you being so lonely and bored with nothing but those serious books about you – by the way, did they mail the package from the library?”

"Yes. Thank you for being so considerate of me, Mr. Graham."

"Oh, nonsense! But I think, my child, we could get rid of this former Mr. Graham. Do you think you could call me guardian, little maid?”

"Yes, Guardian," she said, smiling at him as he turned to look at her in concern.

"Ha! Come on, that's better,” he cried; and he put down the poker and rubbed his hands gently while he gazed thoughtfully upon the fire once more. "It sounds more like you felt at home and I will dare to tell you what I did. You see, I had to ask you not to go out without me for a while, and I didn't like to suggest that we take you to some place of entertainment one evening - not to a theater, of course, but to a concert for a while, say.'

"Oh no, Mr. Graham!" she said hastily, tears welling in her eyes.

He coughed and looked at her confused.

"Oh no, Warden," she said, smiling sadly.

"Ha! That's better. Of course not; of course not. Forgive me for referring to it at all. But um - you won't feel hurt by what I've done?"

She looked at him worried.

"Yes," he said, speaking as if suddenly speechless. "I shouldn't have done it yet. It will seem like I'm giving the impression that you're going to have to stop at some point."

"What have you done?" asked Kate seriously.

"Well my child, I know how musical you used to be and as I was stopping by the manufacturer today it occurred to me that you would like a piano. "It would make the place less boring for them," I said, and - don't be offended, my dear - I - I told him to send in a good copy."

"Mr. Graham! - Guardian!' she said, starting up while the tears were now beginning to flow.

"There, there, I've been struggling to know better," he cried, picking up the poker and hastily beginning to use it. "Men are so stupid. Take no notice, my dear. I will revoke it.”

"No, no," she said softly as she walked up to him and shook his hand. “I'm not hurt; I am happy and grateful.”

"You are real?" he yelled, dropping the poker and catching her hand in his.

"Of course I am," she said simply. "How could I be different? Don't think that I'm so thoughtless and that I don't deeply feel all your kindness."

"Kindness, nonsense!" he said, dropping her hand again and turning away. "But will it help to pass the time better?"

"Yes, I will be very glad to have it."

"And, um - will you sing and play for me sometimes when I come back here?"

"Yes," she said, smiling through tears; "And I would do it tonight, now that you've come back tired and exhausted, if it were here."

"Tired and exhausted? Who is?"

"You are. Do you think I couldn't see anything?"

He looked at her with admiring eyes and then turned back to the fire.

"I am very grateful, guardian," she said. "But shall I long be a prisoner?"

"Hah!" he said with a sigh and as if he hadn't heard her question: "You're right, my child. I had a very, very worrying day.”

"I thought so," Kate said, resuming her seat and looking at him pityingly. "I hope it's nothing very serious."

"Serious?" he said and turned sharply to her. "Well, it is, but I shouldn't worry you about it."

"They say that sometimes it brings relief to talk about our problems."

"But suppose one gets relief, the other pain?" he said, looking quickly at her.

"Then it has something to do with me?"

He turned and faced the fire again.

"Please tell me, guardian," she said.

"Only make yourself miserable, my dear, when you go back to your old self."

She looked at him worriedly for a few moments, then suddenly broke out:

"You saw Uncle James?"

He didn't answer for a while, just sat and stared into the fire.

"Yes," he finally said; "I saw your Uncle James."

"And he knows I'm here," she cried, clasping her hands and looking at him in horror.

He turned slowly and met her gaze.

"Then you don't regret your step and want to return to Northwood?" he said.

"How could I, when you protected me so much and saved me from so much suffering and insult?"

"Hah!" With a sigh of relief, he said, "Thank you, my child. I was afraid you would be ready to go back to him."

"Mr. Graham!" She cried.

"Guardian."

"Then how could you think that, Warden? If I came across as boring and unhappy, that was certainly not surprising given my situation.”

"Of course not; but I flattered myself to believe that you would truly accept your fate."

"I'm made up," Kate said warmly; "But I can't help but long to take my old nurse by the hand again and see my friends."

"Friends?" he said and looked at her curiously.

"Yes; I made two friends down there who I was comfortable with and missed."

"Indeed! I didn't know."

"But tell me, is uncle coming? Does he know I'm here?” Kate exclaimed excitedly.

"No, he's not coming, my child, and he doesn't know you're here," Graham said, watching her inquiringly.

"Ah!" exclaimed the girl with a relieved sigh. "I could - I dare not meet him."

"I felt that. You won't be able to meet him for some time, but there are unpleasant complications, my dear, that worry me a lot."

"Yes?" said Kate excitedly.

"That will, I fear, require you to remain reclusive."

"But, Mr. Graham, let us suppose that one day he came to see you while you were out and was shown to me."

"Ah yes," he said dryly, watching her worried face expressionlessly, "like I once said: that would be embarrassing."

"Oh, it would be horrible," Kate exclaimed, jumping up. "I couldn't go back with him. And he has the right to claim me, and he would insist.”

She began pacing the room excitedly, hands clasped in front of her.

"Yes, my child, it would be dreadful," Graham said softly, "which is why, though it pains you, I have been so careful that none of your letters tell him where you have been."

"But, as I said, he might come to see you in your absence," she cried.

"No, my dear," he said, holding out a hand as she passed the back of his chair; and she stopped at once and put her trust in it trustingly. "Don't be alarmed. I'm an old man of the world, and for years I've had to use my wits to fight with other people. Uncle James doesn't know you're here, and unless you tell him he probably won't know either, for the simple reason that he doesn't know I have a place like this."

Kate sighed in relief and rested her hand in his.

"Poor bastard, he's terribly disappointed and he's doing everything he can to track you down, and his hopeful son is helping him and watching me."

"Oh!" exclaimed Kate excitedly. "Yes, but they don't know this place and keep an eye on my offices on Bedford Row and my house down in Kent. When my poor old friend and customer died and this place came to me, I hardly thought that one day it would prove to be so useful. So try to stop this fluttering legume, little maid. As long as we're careful and you wish, you can stay in the sanctuary. Let's put the tedious business aside altogether. But I am glad that you are happy about the piano.”

"No no; don't discard it yet,” Kate cried eagerly. "Tell me what he said."

'Hmph!' said Graham, frowning; "should I? NO; better not."

"Yes please; I can't help but want to know."

"But I'm afraid of upsetting you, my love."

“It won't now; I'm getting firmer, Mr Graham, my guardian," she said. "It's better to tell me than to let me think, and maybe lie awake tonight imagining things that may not be true."

"Well, that would be bad," he said, nodding his head. "Then sit down and pull your chair up to the fender. Your face is burning but your hands are cold. That's better,” he continued as he picked up the poker again and sat in front, staring at the fire and once more tapping the lumps of coal into the glowing sockets. "See, he's been with me three times."

"And I didn't know!" exclaimed Kate.

"No, you didn't know that, my dear, because I didn't mean to upset you. What does he mean?”

"That I fled to you and put myself under your protection?"

"Wrong," Graham said, glancing around and smiling into the beautiful face by the fireplace while playing the role of a lovely, fatherly man to perfection. "Should I say guess again?"

"No, no, pray don't play with me, Guardian."

"Little thing with you?" he yelled, getting more serious. "NO. It has to come out. He didn't say that, and he didn't accuse me of taking you away either, because he and Master Claude are on the wrong track."

"Yes - yes," Kate said eagerly.

"They say Harry Duncan used his friendship with Claude as an excuse to go to Northwood with another goal in mind."

"Yes what?" she said and looked at him in surprise.

"You, my child."

"Me?" she cried in horror.

“Well, to put it more correctly: your money, my dear; and that hoping to win you over in an uncomplicated way he either came and put you in the mood for having persuaded himself to go with him after paving the way on his other visits by going with had slept on you—”

"Oh!" exclaimed Kate; "I never noticed anything special about his behavior towards me - yes I did, once or twice he was very, very perceptive."

"Indeed," Graham said, frowning.

"But you said 'either'," Kate cried, concerned.

"Yes; either he talked you into eloping with him or he climbed to your window and somehow forced you to leave."

"What madness!" exclaimed Kate.

“Yes, and there's more to it than that; You accuse me of intrigue and say you're sure you're married and that I know where you are.

"Mr. Duncan!" exclaimed Kate, looking at Graham in astonishment.

"Yes, Harry Duncan," he said, straightening up. 'He's my poor late wife's son, my dear, and he happens to lend color to that idea by his absence from home on one of his reckless stupid expeditions; But between us, my child, I would rather see you married to Claude Walton, your cousin, than to him; and,' he added warmly, 'I think I'd rather follow you into your grave than - yes - what is it?'

"I beg your pardon, sir," said the housekeeper, "but dinner is spoiled and I've been waiting for your call for half an hour and more."

"Then address it directly, Ms. Parker, because we're awfully ready."

"Yes indeed."

“At least I am, my dear; I passed out when I walked in. Shall we put this awkward affair on hold now?”

"It's so awful," Kate said.

“Well, yes, that's it; it used to be the same with the poor people who were besieged by the enemy. You are under siege, but you have a strong castle to defend yourself in and you can despise your enemies. Really, Kate, my child, that's like cursing a fortune."

She quickly nodded.

“Money is useful, of course, and I once had a great desire to have it; But like many other things, once owned, it's only a finite amount of cash eventually. It will not buy the love and appreciation of your fellow creatures. You know, my dear, if there wasn't something I would be willing to tell you, "Let Uncle James have your meager fortune and pay off his debts." That's what he wants, not you. As for Claude, he would break your heart in a month.”

"Could I give him the money?" said Kate, looking worriedly into her new guardian's face.

"Oh yes, my dear, that would be easy. And then — I'll tell you what: I've had enough, and I'm sick of the worries and worries of legal life. Why not take a few years vacation and travel to the continent with my adopted daughter and her spinster? Paris, Berlin, Vienna, Switzerland, Italy, Egypt - what would you say to that? It would be lovely.”

"Yes," Kate said eagerly, "and then I could be at peace. No," she said suddenly, color rising in her cheeks again, "that would be impossible."

"Yes," Graham said, watching her intently as she turned her face away to stare at the fire. "Castles in the air, my dear."

"Yes," she said dreamily, "castles in the air." But she saw golden castles in the glowing fire, and her face grew hotter as, against her will, she populated one of those golden castles in a strange way that made her pulse flutter, and she felt that she dared not look at her companion's face.

"Yes, castles in the air, my child," Graham said again. "For this fortune was amassed by your father for the benefit of his child and her husband, and she must not throw it away lightly to help a stupid, greedy, destitute relative."

"Dinner is served, sir," said Mrs. Parker.

Graham got up and offered his arm, which Kate immediately took.

"We can dismiss the awkward matter now," he said, smiling.

"Yes, yes, of course," she said.

"But tell me, do you feel content and safe - at rest?"

"That's right," she said, looking into his face with a smile.

"Now for dinner, then," he said, leading her to the door.

That evening John Graham sat alone over his modest glass of wine, putting the pieces of his plans together, and as he did so he smiled and seemed content.

'No,' he said softly, 'you will not pocket Brother Robert's money, friend James, for I have the winning trump in my hand.' What lovely soft wax to mold! Patience - patience! The fruit is not quite ripe yet. A hundred and fifty thousand - a hundred and fifty thousand!

Chapter thirty-one.

"If only I could get poor Pierce to believe in me again!" Jenny sighed as she settled back in a chair in the cottage after a month's illness; In addition to the severe sprain she had suffered, the exposure had resulted in a severe rheumatic cold and fever, from which she was slowly recovering.

"But he doesn't believe in me one bit anymore, despite everything I've suffered. Oh, how I would like to punish that wretched boy before I go!”

She sat close to the window that overlooked the road to the village, bleary-eyed and listless as she contemplated the past—her favorite way of unhappiness, feeling neither heart-tie nor disappointment. as a spiritual "pièce de résistance" to enjoy during her illness.

Everything had gone so differently than she had planned. Pierce would marry Kate Walton and be rich and happy forever; She intended to be what she called a nice little old aunt to pet and look after all of her brother's children because of course Kate and Pierce wanted her to live with them; but it was all over - Kate had gone to no one knew where; Pierce, who had always loved her so tenderly, barely spoke to her as he was used to. He was quiet, serious, and polite, but never paced the garden with his arm around her waist, laughing and joking with her, and talking about the prince who would one day come to kidnap her to his palace. It was all misery and misery.

"I'm sure no one has ever been able to be this sick and suffer so much," she said, "and I'm getting so white and skinny and ugly and old and I'm sure I'll have to walk about with a crutch." ; and it's so lonely when Pierce always goes out to see old women and old men who aren't half as badly off as me; and i wish i was dead! Oh my god, oh oh my god, I wonder if it hurts very much to die. If so, I'll ask Pierce to give me some laudanum to put me out of my misery, and - oh, who is that?"

A carriage had pulled up at the gate and she bent to see.

"Mrs. Walton's carriage,” she said, and her interest grew quickly, “and poor Pierce out.” Oh my God, how annoying it is when he wants patients so badly! I wonder who is sick now. It can't be that little fellow, 'cause I saw him ride by an hour ago and stare at the place; and it can't be Mr. Walton, for he goes to Dexter's every Friday. It must be Mrs. Walton herself.``

"Please Miss, this is Missus Walton," said the tall, lanky girl who had just emancipated herself from the village schools to be Jenny's maid and nurse, and the lady in question kicked her village basket in the arm.

"Ah! my dear child!" she cried, hurrying across the room, placing her basket on the table and then bending down to kiss Jenny, who sat up, frowning and stiff. "No, no, don't get up."

"I didn't mean to, Mrs. Walton," Jenny said coldly; "I can't."

"Think about it now," called the visitor, pulling a chair forward and carefully spreading out her silks and furs as she sat down; "And I was so terribly unneighborly that I didn't come to you, even though I didn't know you'd been so bad. You see, I had so many problems of my own to take care of that I couldn't think of anything else; But today I realized that I had neglected you disgracefully, so I told myself I would come by immediately, as Mr. Walton and my son were both outside, and bring you a piece of chicken and a bottle of wine and the very last bunch of grapes, before the wine cellar got too moldy, and here I am.”

"Yes, Mrs. Walton," Jenny said stiffly; "But please, I'm not one of the poor people in the community."

“No, my dear, of course not; but what made you think of that?”

"The wine, Mrs. Walton."

"But it's the best port, my dear - not the one I give to the poor."

"And the piece of chicken, Mrs. Walton," Jenny said viciously.

"But it's not a bit, my dear; "It's a whole," said the lady, looking worried.

"A cold leftover from last night's dinner," Jenny said, half hysterically.

"Indeed, no, my dear," cried the visitor pleadingly; "It's not a boiled rooster at all, but a handsome young dorking rooster from the farm."

"And a bunch of moldy grapes," Jenny exclaimed passionately, breaking into a fit of sobs, "like I was Widow Gee!"

“Why, my dear child, I – oh, I see, I see; You're just getting better, you're feeling lonely and down and it makes you feel restless and upset and I know it. There, there, there, my poor darling! I should have come and seen you earlier, because I always liked to see your pretty little happy face, and there, there, there!' She continued, kneeling by the chair and holding the small, thin patient in gentle, motherly manner to her large breasts, kissing, stroking and cooing while rocking them with her own scented handkerchief to dry the tears.

"That's right. Cry well, my love. It will relieve you and you will feel better. I know myself how upset it is to be sick when you have no one to take care of you and with you speaks; but you will not be angry with me now for bringing you the fruit and the wine, for indeed, indeed, they are the best that can be had, and do you think I would be so proud and insulting to treat you like that? one of the poor people? No, indeed my dear, for I don't mind telling you that I myself will only be a poor woman, for things are going to change very sadly, and when I come to you, if I should Stay here instead of going to the workhouse There will be no carriage, but I must go on foot.

"I - I - beg your pardon, Mrs. Walton," Jenny sobbed. "I've been saying nasty things since I've been so ill."

"Of course you do, sweetheart, and quite naturally. We women understand. I wish the gentlemen had; But my dear, my dear, they believe that no one has the right to be evil but them, and sometimes they are. You can't imagine what I must endure from Mr Walton and my son, though he's a dear good boy at heart, just spoiled. But you are feeling better, my dear, and you will be well soon.”

"Yes, Mrs. Walton," Jenny said pathetically, "if I don't die first."

"Oh, do, do, do! die at your age. Even with me I never think of such a thing. But, oh, my dear child, I want you to try to take pity on me and comfort me. Of course you know the difficulties we were in.”

"Yes," said Jenny. "I heard it and I'm better now, Mrs. Walton. Won't you sit down?"

"I will definitely do that, my dear. There: that's better. And now we can chat comfortably, just like we did when you were at the Manor. Oh my god, no visitors now, my child. It's all debt, misery and ruin. The place is not the same. Poor, poor Kate!”

"Have you heard where she is, Mrs. Walton?"

"No, my dear," said the visitor, pursing her lips and shaking her head, "and never will. Poor dear angel! I am right. I'm sure it's as I said it is."

Jenny looked at her curiously, every nerve aroused with the desire to know more.

"I felt it right away," Ms. Walton continued. “As soon as they told me she was gone, I knew that in her misery and desperation she had thrown herself into the lake; And though I've been laughed at and scolded, there she lies, poor child. I am sure of that as I sit here.”

"Mrs. Walton!" Jenny exclaimed in horror. "Oh pray pray don't say that!" and she burst into hysterical tears.

"I am obliged, my love," said the visitor, taking a trembling hand in hers and kissing it; "But don't cry or fret, although it's very kind of you and I know you loved sweet gentle darling. Ah, it was all a terrible mistake, and I have often lay awake and cried silently, so as not to wake Mr. Walton and upset him. Of course you know that Mr. Walton has decided that Claude should marry her, and if he says something should be done, it's no use saying a word to me. He is a master. It's about 'love, honor and obedience,' my dear, when you're a married woman, as you'll find out one day."

"No, Mrs. Walton, I will never marry."

"Ah, we all say that, my child, but there comes a time when we think differently. But like I said, I thought it was all a mistake, but I had to do what Mr. Walton wanted, even though I felt they didn't fit in at all, and I know Claude didn't care for her. I would have much rather seen him engaged to a nice little girl like you."

"Mrs. Walton!" Jenny said indignantly.

"Oh my god, what did I say?" the lady cried, smiling. “He's headstrong and stupid and lazy and loves sports; but my boy Claude is not a bad boy at all - well, not so much - and he's going to get better; and I'm sure you always enjoyed chatting with him whenever you came to the Manor.'

"I actually didn't do that!" Jenny exclaimed, blushing warmly.

"Well, I'm a stupid old woman and I was wrong, that's all. But now, we don't want to talk about such things with the poor child lying at the bottom of the lake; and they won't let it be carried away."

"But she certainly wouldn't have done such a thing, Mrs. Walton," Jenny exclaimed wildly.

"I don't know, my dear. They say I'm very stupid but I can't help it when I think about it because she was very weak and down and miserable and she hated poor Claude for the way he treated her. But I'll never believe she eloped with that young Mr. Duncan."

"Neither do I," Jenny exclaimed indignantly. "She wouldn't do such a thing."

“She wouldn't, my dear; and I say it's a shame to say this but my husband will think he kidnapped her for her money. And as I said to my husband, "You thought the same thing about poor Claude when the dear boy was as innocent as a dove." I'm right about that, I'm sure I'm right. She lies asleep at the bottom of the lake.``

Jenny's face twisted in horror and her visitor took her in his arms again.

"There, there, don't look like that, my dear. She means nothing to you, and I'm a very stupid old woman, and I dare say I'm wrong. I came here to be like a good neighbor and try to comfort you and I'm only making you worse. That's just like me, my dear. But now look here. You mustn't walk around with that white face. You want change and you should come to the Manor and stay there for a month. It will do you good.”

"No," Jenny said quietly. "I can't come, thank you, Ms. Walton. My brother would not allow it.”

"But he has to do it, for your sake. Oh, those men, those men!”

"That's impossible," Jenny said, holding out her hand, "because we're leaving."

"Go away! Well, I'm sorry. Oh me! It's a sad world and maybe I'll be gone soon too. But maybe you'll come for a week. Why not tomorrow?"

Jenny shook her head and the visitor said goodbye to her so lovingly that no further objection was raised to the contents of the basket.

Chapter thirty-two.

Jenny wasn't sitting alone many minutes after the carriage left, thinking excitedly about her visitor's words about Kate's disappearance, when the front door opened softly and there was a knock on the wall paneling of the room in which she was sitting .

"Who is it? Come in."

"Just me," said a familiar voice, and Claud Walton stood in the doorway, hunting whip in hand, smiling.

"You!" exclaimed Jenny, cheeks on fire. "How dare you come here?"

"Because I wanted to see you," he said. "Just met the mother and she told me how bad you were and that you were talking about dying. I'm saying, you know, none of that nonsense."

"What business is it of yours, sir, if I do it?"

"Oh, many," he said, twirling the whip as he stood looking at her. "If you ran away, I should hang myself in the stable."

"Get out of here immediately. How dare you come?” Jenny exclaimed indignantly.

"Because I love you. You made me and you can't deny that."

"Oh!" the girl cried, while her cheeks glowed even hotter.

"I can't help it now. I've been so bad ever since I knew you were so bad. and when the old woman said what she had done, she regularly handed me over, and I had to come. i say i love you you know

"It's not love," she cried hotly; "It's an insult. Go away. My brother will be here immediately.”

"I don't care about your brother," the young man said sullenly. "I'm just as good as him. I wanted to see how bad you were."

"Well, you saw it. I was almost dead from fever and pain and it was all because of you that night.”

"Yes, it was all through me, dear."

“Silence, sir; How dare you!"

"Because I love you and in my soul I would have been ten times as bad as you should be."

"It's all false - a collection of cruel, evil lies."

"No it is not. I know I told a lot of lies to girls but they were just idiots back then and I was a normal beast Jenny but now I'll be totally honest; am, my word. Back then I didn't know what a real girl was but now I woke up and I would do anything to please you. Sometimes I feel like I wish I were your dog.”

"Bah! Go find your rich cousin and tell her that.”

"My rich cousin," he called out heatedly. "She's gone, go well with her. I know I made amends—the governor wanted me to do it for her tin—but I'm sick of the whole business, and I wouldn't marry her if she had a hundred and fifty million instead of a hundred and fifty thousand.”

"And do you think I'm so weak and stupid as to believe all this?" She cried.

"I know," he said quietly. "I think you will. A smart girl like you can tell when someone is telling the truth."

"Go away before my brother comes."

"Shan't, I wouldn't go for a hundred brothers now."

"Oh," Jenny gasped. "Don't you see that you're going to get me into new trouble with him and make me even more unhappy?"

"I don't want to," he said softly, "and I'd go right away if I thought it would, but I wouldn't go for fear. I say: Aren't you very hard on a guy? I know I was a brute, but I think there's some good in me, and if I could make you take care of me, I wouldn't turn into a bad guy."

"I won't listen to you. Go away."

"I'm saying, you know," he continued, standing still in the doorway, "why won't you listen to me and be gentle and nice like you were first?"

“Silence, sir; don't talk about it. It was all a mistake.”

"No, it wasn't that. You started fishing for me and caught me. I've got the hook tight inside me and I couldn't escape even if I tried. I say: Jenny, please listen to me. I'm serious and I'm going to try so hard to be right and fair. "Pon my soul, I will."

"Where's your cousin?"

"I don't know - and I don't want to," he added.

"Yes you do, you took her with you."

"Well, there's no use swearing by a girl; If you don't believe me when I say I don't know, you won't believe me on oath either. What do I want with her? She hated me and I hated her. There's only one nice girl in the world, and that's you."

"Pah!" cried Jenny, who was redder than ever. "Look at me."

"Well, I look at you," he said, smiling, "and it does a person good."

"Can't you see I've gotten thin, yellow and ugly?"

"NO; and I will smack any guy over the head who says so."

"Don't you know I hurt my ankle and I'm going to be on crutches?"

"Uh?" he yelled, wincing. "I'm saying it's not that bad, is it?"

"Yes; I can't put my foot on the ground."

"Phew!" he whistled, with an expression of pity and dismay on his face; "Poor little foot."

'I tell you, I'll be a miserable cripple, I'm sure; but I'm going away and you'll never see me again."

"Oh, isn't it?" he said, smiling. "You just walk away and I follow you like a shadow. You will not escape me."

"But am I not telling you that I shall be a miserable cripple?"

"Well," he said thoughtfully; "It's a bad job and maybe it will get better. If not, I can carry you anywhere; I am as strong as a horse. Look, there's no point in denying it, you made me love you and you need to have me now - I mean, someday."

"Never!" yelled Jenny fiercely.

“Ah, that's a long wait; but I will wait, Look, little one," he cried, now passionate in his seriousness, "I love you and I'm sorry for everything that's gone by; but I'm getting more honest every day."

"But I'm telling you, it's impossible. I'm leaving; it was all a mistake. I cannot listen to you, and I tell you again that I shall be a miserable, surly cripple all my life.”

"No, you're not," the boy said, straightening up and pursing his lips. “You will not be unhappy, for I would make you happy; and I like it when a girl is astute with a guy like you can; it is good for you. And as for being crippled: Jenny, my dear, I love you so much that I would marry you tomorrow if you had no legs at all.

Jenny looked at him in horror as he was still framed in the doorway; She averted her eyes, however, and directed them to the window, noticing how eagerly he was watching her while her heart began to beat rapidly, fully realizing now how dangerous the game she was playing so lightly was. As rough as his behavior was, she couldn't help feeling that his behavior towards her was sincere, although she was disturbed nonetheless; But a moment later, the fear faded into a sense of relief, and a look of malicious joy flashed in her eyes as she saw her brother coming down the street.

But the flash died, and, remorseful at wanting Pierce to suddenly lunge at the intruder, she said quickly:

'Mr Walton, don't stop there; go – go, please, directly. Here comes my brother.”

She blushed and felt annoyed immediately afterwards, angry at herself and angry at her lame words, even more so when Claude burst out laughing.

"Not him," cried the boy. "You said that to scare me."

"Indeed not; please go. He'll be so angry," she cried.

"I don't care as long as you don't care."

"But I'm," she cried, "terribly angry."

"You don't look like it. I've never seen you so pretty."

"But he's around here and - and I'm so sick - it's going to make me worse. Pray, pray, go.”

"I say, is that what you mean?" he said eagerly. "If I thought it was really you, I would-"

"You naughty dog! How dare you?" Pierce yelled, grabbing his collar and forcing him into the room. "You dare come in here and insult my sister like that!"

"Who insulted her?" cried Claude heatedly.

"You, sir. It is unbearable. How dare you come here?"

"Gently, doctor," said Claude coolly; "Remember what you say."

"Why are you here, sir?"

"Come and see how your sister is."

"What's your business, pup? Get out of the house," Pierce yelled, snatching the hunting whip from the young man's hand, "or I'll whip you as you deserve."

"No, you won't," Claude said, staring into his eyes while his lips tightened. “You can't be so cowardly in front of her and upset her any more. Ask her if I offended her.”

“No, no, indeed, Pierce; "Mr. Walton was extremely friendly and distinguished – more than I would have expected,” Jenny stammered anxiously.

"Gentlemanly," Pierce called scornfully. "Then he is here at your invitation. Oh shame on you.”

"No, it's not that," Claude called out vigorously. "She didn't know I was coming and when I came she told me to go away - well now."

"Then leave this house."

“No, I won't do that until I've said what I have to say; So put down the whip before you hurt someone, maybe more than me. You are not her father.”

"I take the place of your father, sir, and I order you to leave."

"Look, doctor, please remember that you are a gentleman and so am I."

"A gentleman!" cried Pierce angrily, "and dare you come here in my absence and insult my sister!"

"It's no offense to come up to her and tell her how sorry I am that she's sick."

"A ridiculous lie and subterfuge!" Pierce exclaimed.

"No, it's neither, but the truth, and I don't care if you're home, doctor, or if you're out. I came here to tell her straight like a man that I love her; And I don't care what you say or do, I'll keep loving her in spite of you or a dozen brothers. – Now give me my whip.”

Pierce was taken completely by surprise at his bold, outspoken manner, and the whip was snatched from his hand. Claud stood still and let her twirl until he had the tip in his fingers, all the while glaring at Jenny.

'So,' he said, 'I don't intend to argue; I'm leaving now. Goodbye Jenny; I mean everything, every word, and I hope you get better soon. "There," he said, turning to Lewis. “I won't shake your hand because I know you won't, but if you want I will. You hate me now like some of your own poisons because you think I'm after cousin Kate, but that's not necessary. You don't need to bat an eyelid; I am not blind. I smelled that rat pretty soon. She never took care of me and I never took care of her and you can marry her and have her fortune if you can find her and I will do everything to prevent that - like this."

He nodded sharply, put on his hat defiantly, and marched out, leaving Pierce Lewis half stunned by his words; and the next moment they heard him walking down the street, leaving brother and sister staring at each other with flashing eyes.

Chapter thirty three.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments.

"Was that your act?" Lewis finally shouted, turning angrily to his sister.

At that moment, Jenny was lying on her back, shaking and agitated, with her eyes half closed, but her brother's words made her act.

"You heard what Mr. Claude Walton said," she replied angrily. "How dare you talk to me like that, Pierce, when you know what you're doing?"

He let out an impatient exclamation.

"Yes, that's how you treat me now," she said pathetically; “Your problems have made you doubtful and suspicious. Haven't I suffered enough without you becoming cruel to me again?"

"How can you expect me to behave differently when I see you encouraging this guy here? It's all the result of the way you forgot your self-respect and what's due me."

"That's cruel again, Pierce. You know why I acted the way I did.”

"Pah!" he exclaimed; "And now I think you're encouraging the guy."

"I was just as surprised as you, dear," she said.

"And to use the guy's words, do you think I'm blind? It was clear to see that you were happy about his coming."

"It wasn't me," she shouted angrily now. "I tell you, I was quite surprised. I was shocked and scared and I was glad when I saw you coming because I wanted you to punish him for daring to come.”

Lewis looked at his sister in anger and disgust.

"If I can read a woman's face," he said mockingly, "then you were delighted with every word he said to me."

"I don't know - I can't tell you what it was like," she faltered as her pale cheeks began to glow again, "but I'm afraid I was satisfied, dear."

"I thought so," he exclaimed mockingly.

"I liked the manly, bold way he spoke up. It sounded so true.”

"Yes very much. Brave words like he said into the ears of a dozen stupid girls. And before I came, did he tell you he loved you?"

"Yes dear."

"And you told him his ardent passion was reciprocated," he scoffed.

"I didn't. I could have told him I hated him, but I was sorry because I behaved very badly and I was flirting with him like that."

"And pity is a lot like love, Jenny," Lewis exclaimed with a harsh laugh, "and I suppose I shall have the opportunity to welcome that rude fool as a brother-in-law very soon." Oh, what weak , pathetic beings women are! You can't write about them worse than they prove."

Jenny said nothing, but she bravely looked her brother in the face until his brow furrowed in anger and self-reproach.

"What do you mean by that?" he cried furiously.

"I was just thinking about why you're speaking so bitterly, Pierce."

he exclaimed; and there was silence again.

"Mrs. Walton came this afternoon and brought me a chicken and some wine and grapes," Jenny finally said.

"Like her insolence. Send them back.”

"NO. She was very sweet and kind, Pierce. She was full of self-blame for the way poor Kate Walton was being treated."

"Bah! What's that to us?

"A lot, my dear. She is half heartbroken and says it was all the squire's doing and that she was grateful to him. He wished his son would marry Kate."

"The old villain!"

"And she says that poor Kate drowned in the lake."

Lewis flinched violently, his eyes wild with terror, but it was just a flash.

“Pish!” He exclaimed, “A foolish woman's fantasy. The ladder at the window contradicted this. It was an escape and this villain who was here right now was kind of behind it. He helped."

"No," Jenny said softly, "it wasn't, I'm sure of that. There's a secret you should get to the bottom of.”

"That's enough," he said sharply, and she noticed that there was a strange, startled expression in her brother's eyes. "Now listen to me. You will pack your things. Starting tonight. Everything must be ready by noon tomorrow."

"Yes, darling," she said gently. "Will you send me away?"

"No, I'll take you with me. I can't take this life any longer."

"So shall we leave here?"

"Yes immediately."

"Have you sold the house?"

"Bah! Who could buy it?”

"But your patients, Pierce?"

“There is another man within two miles. So don't talk to me."

"Aren't you going to confide in me, Pierce?" Jenny said quickly. "I can't believe we're leaving because of what just happened. You must have heard some news.”

He frowned and said nothing.

"Very good, dear," she said mildly. "I'm glad we're going because I think you'll be trying to track down poor Kate."

"There will be a fly here at noon," he said, not hearing her words, and her eyes flashed because everything told her that she was right and that the sudden departure was not due to meeting Claude. But this meeting had sealed his lips in anger, and just as he was getting home eager to confide in his sister, he had at last received a small clue as to Kate's whereabouts.

For he had been called to the village inn to look after a fly-driver who had been kicked by his horse. The man was a stranger and the injury was minor enough that he was able to drive himself back to his location miles away. But in the course of the conversation, while his leg was being bandaged, he had told the doctor that he had once eaten a strange meal in that village, and he described Graham's procedure, finally asking Louis if he knew who the lady was.

Chapter thirty-four.

"Here! Hello! Hold on!"

Pierce Lewis ignored the shouts that reached his ears as he crossed Bedford Square one morning; but he stopped abruptly and turned angrily when a hand was laid heavily on his shoulder and found himself suddenly face to face with Claud Walton, who was standing and holding out his hand.

"I saw you staring at Uncle Robert's old house, but there's no use looking there."

"What do you mean?" said Lewis sternly.

"Get out! You know. Well, won't you shake my hand?"

There was something so open and frank in the young man's look and demeanor that Lewis involuntarily raised his hand, and before even a shred of memory could spell out his second intent, it was firmly grasped and expressed.

"That's better, Doctor," called Claude. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, very good," Pierce said shortly.

"Well, you don't look like it. No, no, don't give a guy the cold shoulder like that. I say I came here a long time ago and visited the new people here because I thought she might have been in her old home but it was just my imagination. no-go; she hadn't been there."

"You will excuse me, Mr. Walton," Pierce said coldly; “I am busy this morning – a patient. I wish you a nice day."

"No, do not do that. I've had enough trouble finding you, so please don't get cold shoulders. It's no use, because I won't lose sight of you now. I say it was meant to break away from Northwood like you did.”

"Would you be kind enough to show me which way you want to go, Mr. Walton," said Lewis angrily, "and then I can choose another?"

"No need, Doctor; Your way is my way and I stand by you like a 'Tec'.”

Lewis' eyes literally twinkled.

"It won't do you any good to be waxy, Doctor, because it won't do you any good. I have a smell like one of my retrievers; and i finally got you overpowered

"Am I to understand, sir, that you intend to watch me?" Lewis said sternly.

"It is. Of course I do. I've been in it since you left the old place. If I decide on something, I'll stick with it - stubborn as a head oak."

"Indeed," Lewis said sarcastically; "And now you've found me, please, what do you want?"

"Jenny!" said Claude with the headed oak likeness in voice and look.

"Curse your insolence, sir!" Lewis shouted violently. "How dare you talk about my sister like that?"

"Because I love her like a man, doctor," and there was a slight tremor in the speaker's voice; but his face was hard and set, and when he next spoke his words sounded firm and persistent enough. “I told her, and I told you too; And whether she'll have me one day or not is one thing, I'll never give up on her. She caught me quickly.”

Despite his anger, Lewis couldn't help but enjoy himself, and Claude saw his features soften slightly and said quickly, "I say, tell me how she's doing."

"My sister's health means nothing to you, sir, and I wish you a good morning."

He walked on, but Claude, despite his anger, followed him step by step.

'It's no use, Doctor, and you can't attack me here in London. I'll find out where you live, so you might as well be polite. Tell me how she is.”

Lewis didn't answer but walked faster.

"Your health is none of my business," Claude said quietly and quickly. "You do not know; and I won't tell you because you wouldn't believe it and would laugh at me. I'm saying how would you like it if someone treated you like that when it came to Kate?"

"Silence, sir! How dare you!" thundered Lewis, turning sharply and stopping.

'Don't shout, doctor; It'll make people think we're rowing and gather a crowd. But I say that was a good shot; had you been there So you haven't found her yet?"

"My good, do you want to go your way and let me go mine?"

“Frankly, Doctor, no, I won't; And if you knock me down, I'll get up again, put my hands in my pockets and follow you wherever you go. I won't hit again, although I'm better trained and can use my fists faster than you, and I also have courage, as I've been able to show you. Do what you want, call me names or hit me, but I will never forget that you are Jenny's brother. Well I say don't be brutal to a poor guy. It's not such a big sin to love the prettiest, sweetest little girl that ever was."

"Will you be silent?"

"Oh yes, if you're talking to someone. Maybe you'll have a little more feeling when you see that you're in the same boat."

"You insufferable bastard!" Lewis exclaimed angrily.

"Yes it is. That's right – cad; That's who I am, but I'm trying to tone it down, doctor. I say tell me how she's been. She's been so 'bad.'"

"My sister has made a full recovery."

"Hooray!" exclaimed Claude excitedly. “But, I say – the ankle. How is that?"

"Look, my dear, you have to go. I will not answer your questions. Are you crazy or an idiot?"

"Both," Claude said coolly. "I'm saying, you know, about that ankle. I think you were so wild that night you kicked it and broke it."

"What!" exclaimed Lewis excitedly. "My good, what do you take me for?"

"Your brother, with a terrible temper. Your father wouldn't treat me the way you do if he were alive. It was a cowardly, cruel act for a man."

"You're dead wrong, sir," Lewis said coldly, wondering why he should be dragged out like that. "My sister was unlucky enough to sprain her ankle."

"I'm pleased," Claude said bluntly. "I was scared it was you and whenever I see you it upsets me and makes me want to kick you. Well, you told me how she's doing, and that's some reward for all my searching around town. I'm saying there's already another guy following in your footsteps down in Northwood. His mother gave him governor's gout. He caught a cold up here chasing Kate. This developed into gout and I had to hunt all the time. Now you and I will team up and take them down.”

Lewis made an angry gesture that was easy to interpret: "How am I supposed to get rid of this rude guy?"

Claude laughed.

"It doesn't work," he said. "I say: Doctor, let your pride sink and so on. It's no use refusing to help someone you don't like if they mean it and mean well. Have a look here. "Pon my soul, it's the truth." Kate Walton has a hundred and fifty thousand and your sister hasn't a penny. I'm not as stupid as you think because I can read you like a book. You were gone at Cousin Kate's long before you were invited to our house, and you would give your life to find her; And I don't think it's for their money's sake. Well, I'm doing everything I can to find her, and I've been doing it since you left. Why? I will tell you. Because it will please little Jenny who adores you even though you don't deserve it.

Lewis stared at him, trying hard to read the young man's face, but he didn't flinch, blink his eyelids, or twitch his lips. Claud gave him a direct, grim look that radiated conviction.

"Look," Claud said, "I haven't found out where she is."

"As a matter of fact?" said Lewis cautiously.

"But I found one thing out."

Despite the young doctor's self-control, he couldn't help but look questioningly.

Claude saw it and smiled.

"She didn't date Harry Duncan, I found that out."

Lewis said nothing.

"Ara, look here. I've gone through all of this countless times trying to figure out where she might be and that there is a relative or friend that she ran off to to get away from us but I can't place it on anyone and I'm going where I am from our cousins ??the Morrisons to old Graham - who controls the boss and could sell us tomorrow if he wanted to - I can't get to it. But the scent seems to be aimed most at old Graham, and I plan on trying there again. The governor said it was his job to help Harry Duncan, but that's completely wrong. They both hate each other like poison and I can't think of any reason that would make Graham take her away. He would do anything to get her money, but there's nothing he can do about that because I've read the will again. No one but her husband can get hold of this piece of loot, and I wish you could get it. I do, 'pon my soul. Still, I think more and more that smart Graham is the right man.”

They had walked side by side steadily throughout this conversation, and finally Lewis was totally convinced that Claude wouldn't be shaken off, and even if he were, he would still be watching him, Lewis went straight on to his new home, and An He paused at a door that had a new brass plate on it, while the usual red portholes gleamed in the lamp like danger signals to ward off death and disease-the accidents of life's great railway.

"Well, Mr. Walton," he said tersely, "you've achieved your goal and followed me home."

"And no thanks," Claude said with one of his big grins. "Won't you invite me in, I suppose?"

"No sir, I won't do that."

"Okay, I didn't expect that. Of course I should have found you out from the directories at some point.”

"It doesn't say my name, sir."

"Oh, but it will be soon, doctor. I say: should you tell her that you saw me?”

"Out of cool impudence, Mr. Claud Walton," said Lewis in reply, "I have never seen your like."

"That's not impudence, doctor," said Claude gravely; “It's courage and bulldog. I wasn't well known and I'm not getting to what you think a guy should be."

"You certainly don't," Lewis said, unable to suppress a smile.

"I know that, but there's something inside me, after all, and when I grab it, I don't let it go."

He gave Lewis a curt nod, put his hands in his pockets, and walked on without looking back. Lewis watched him until he turned the corner before pulling out a key and entering the house.

"The devil doesn't seem as black as he's made out to be, after all," he said, wiping his feet, and when Jenny heard the sound, she hurried down the stairs, bare of crutches.

"Oh, Pierce dear, have you been with those people on Bedford Street? They have been there twice and I told them you left.”

"Pooh!" exclaimed Lewis. "What a head I have! On the way someone met me and distracted my thoughts. I'm going immediately."

And he rushed out.

Chapter thirty-five.

It was a magnificent grand piano, the notes of which echoed through the house and made poor Becky, with her pale, anemic, tied face, from the lower regions to peek around corners and listen until the last chords of a sonata sounded out when she hid again but crept back up slowly and cautiously like a snake and stuck her head out of the darkness that hung forever over the kitchen steps as Kate's deep sweet voice was heard singing the sad old ballad, a favorite ballad of her father's, the brought up the happy past and often enough ended with tears dripping silently into the ivory keys.

Such a song will sometimes bring tears to some listeners; the melody, the words, the memories evoked, the singer's expression all have their effect; and perhaps it was a memory of the baker (or milkman) that invaded poor shy Becky, for almost invariably she burst into tears.

"She says it's like heaven, ma'am," Sarah Parker said, expressing her child's tense ideas about happiness above. "And really, the place doesn't seem to be the same, because God bless you! You made us all so happy here.”

Kate sighed, not sharing the happy feeling. There were times when her fate seemed too hard to bear. Graham was kindness itself; he seemed constantly striving to please her. Books, music, papers, fruit and flowers - violets all the time, as soon as he saw her eyes light up when he brought her a bouquet. Almost every wish expressed was fulfilled. But there was this strong longing for fellowship with others. If only she could have written to poor, kind, faithful Eliza or Jenny Lewis, she would have endured her imprisonment better; But she had carefully studied her new guardian's wishes on this point, and heeded his advice whenever he repeated the dangers that would beset her path if James Walton found out where she was.

'As it is, my dear child,' he kept saying, 'it is a place of refuge; and when I am absent I am on thorns, lest you be tempted by the bright sunshine out of the gloom of that dreary house to be seen by one or other of James Walton's emissaries, and I return to the To find the cage I have tried so hard to gild, empty - the bird has been carried off into a different kind of captivity, one that would certainly not be so easy to endure."

"No no no; I couldn't take it!" she cried wildly. "I don't grumble. I won't complain, Guardian; but there are times when I would give anything to be somewhere out in the open air , with the beautiful blue sky above me, the soft grass under my feet and the birds singing in my ears.”

"Yes, yes, I know, my poor dear child," he said tenderly. "It's cruelly hard for you, but what can I do? I wait and hope that James Walton, after realizing his helplessness, will become more open to reasonable terms. I'm sure you would be ready to meet him."

"To see him again? Oh no, I couldn't. "The thought is terrible," she exclaimed. "After all his promises to my dying father, he seems to have broken faith."

"He did," said Graham solemnly; “But you misunderstand me; I didn't want to meet him in person, but in terms that would mean so much money - in other words, you would buy your freedom."

"Oh yes, yes," she yelled wildly, "at all costs. It is as you said one night, Guardian; I am cursed by a fortune."

"Damn it indeed, my dear. But try to be hopeful and patient and we'll do more walks in one evening. Just to think that we have to sneak out like two thieves at night to take a dark walk in Russell Square sometimes. I'm not surprised that the police watched us earlier."

"If only I could write a few letters, Guardian!"

"Yes, my dear, if only you could. I can't tell you not to do it, just bring the case up again."

"Yes, yes, yes," she said, hastily wiping away a few tears. “I am very, very stupid and ungrateful; But now it's all over and I'll be patient and wait for freedom. I am far better off than many who are confined to a hospital bed.”

"No," he said softly, shaking his head. "Much worse off. Illness brings with it a dull languor and indifference to external things. The quiet rest of the bedroom is welcome and the room itself is the patient's little world. You, my dear, are in the middle of the tide of life and youth with all its longings and you have to suffer even more there. But there; I work like a slave to settle many matters in court; and as soon as I get it over with, we shall fly somewhere abroad, away from the gilded cage, out into the mountains and forests, where you can weary me with your desires to be in the open air.”

"I – I don't think I want to leave England," she said hesitantly, and with that serious, distant look in her eyes he'd seen before.

"Well, we'll find a secluded spot by the lakes where we're unlikely to be spotted and where the birds will sing for you. And here's a happy thought, Kate, my child - you'll have some fellow prisoners."

"Companions?" she said eagerly.

"Yes, comrades," he replied, smiling; "But I meant birds - canaries, larks - what do you say to pigeons? They make adorable pets.”

"No, no," she said hastily; “Don't do that, Mr Graham. One prisoner is enough.”

He bowed his head.

"You only have to state your wishes, my child," he said. "Then you will try to clear the clouds?"

"Oh yes, I'll be patient," she said, smiling at him; and she put her hands in his.

"Thank you," he said softly; and for the first time he drew her closer to him, bending to kiss her forehead - at the slightest touch - and then lowering her hands to turn away, sighing.

And the days passed, and the prisoner struggled hard with herself to be content with her fate. She practiced diligently on the piano and learned the quirky Gothic letters of the German works in one of the boxes. She also sang about the big, gloomy house now and then, but mostly only to pause hastily when she found she had listeners drawn from the lower regions.

But try to occupy her mind, she could not control the thoughts that would bring a faint color to her cheeks. For the calm, steady face of Pierce Lewis kept coming forward, and the color deepened as she sensed there was something strange in all this, especially when he of whom she was thinking could not be given by words or looks she had reason to believe he cared about her. And yet, in her secret heart, she felt that he did. And what would he think of her? He could know nothing of her actions, but little of the reasons why she had escaped from her uncle's care.

Chapter thirty-six.

Memories of her easy friendship with the Lewis - hardly due to the rarity of their encounters - grew as the days passed until Kate Walton was constantly thinking of the brother and sister she had left behind in Northwood. Jenny's beaming face kept protruding and seemed to be laughing at the pages of the boring old German book she was poring over; and it became a habit in her lonely life to sit and dream and think about it while it seemed slowly to change; The happy eyes grew calm and serious, the broad forehead widened until, though the resemblance was there, it was her brother's face, and she closed the book with a startled sense of irritation, feeling ready

At such moments, she began to suffer from odd little nervous fits, followed by long, dreamy thoughts that troubled her more than ever, fearing what the Lewis would think of their escape.

Music, long conversations with Sarah Parker, attempts to upset poor Becky, anything she could think of to get her attention and keep her mind occupied were tried in vain. The brother's and sister's faces came more to the fore as their nervous agitation increased, and the natural struggle against their long imprisonment now increased rapidly.

She tried to hide it from Graham, thinking he didn't notice, but it was too obvious. Her efforts to look cheerful and cheery at breakfast and when he came back in the evening became forced and painful; and with his calm, smiling demeanor and his pleasant, talkative way of discussing current events with her, he prepared himself for the encounter he knew was about to take place.

It took longer than he expected, but it suddenly came upon him one evening after a torturous day, when Kate had to fight hard over and over again to suppress the intense desire to escape the terrible loneliness that seemed to be crushing her.

She knew she wasn't feeling well because the pressure of her lonely life was on her nerves; the thoughts that troubled her intensified; And now came with terrible force the feeling that she had behaved like a weak child, not bravely asserting her position in her uncle's house and forcing him to fulfill his duty of protection to his brother's child.

"It's too late? Am I acting like a child now?" she wondered, finally deciding with a wild outburst of excitement that her present life had to end.

She had calmed down a little just before Graham returned that evening, and the memory of his chivalry and paternal attention to her smallest desires made her balk at declaring that she must have some spare change after all; because if she didn't, as she had told herself in her fit of excitement that afternoon, she would go mad.

She was very quiet during supper, and he was careful to avoid interrupting the fits of thoughtfulness she fell into from time to time, but an hour later, following her from his glass of wine into the library, he saw that her eyebrows were raised and that the expected moment had come.

"Tired, dear?" he said as he sat down in his chair.

"Very, Mr. Graham," she said quickly; and the excited look in her eyes deepened.

"Well, I don't like parting with you, my child," he said; "I've gotten so used to your merry conversation in one evening and it's so restorative to me, but I mustn't be selfish. Go to bed when you feel ready. It's the weather I think. The glass is very low.”

'No,' Kate said quickly, 'it's not that; It's this pathetic tension that torments me. Oh, watchman, watchman, when will this dreadful life of secrecy come to an end?”

"Soon, my child, soon. But try to stay calm; You've been so brave and good so far; Let's not take any chances when we're so close to success.”

"You've talked to me so many times and - and I can't take it any longer. I definitely have to make sure that this is put to an end now.”

"Ah!" he sighed with a sad look; "I'm not surprised to hear you talk like that. You have done miracles. I would rather have asked you to be patient, dear, but I agree; It's more than you can expect from a bright young girl. I noticed it, though you went to great lengths to hide it; The long confinement affects your health negatively and makes you restless and impatient.”

"And I tried so hard not to be," she cried, now full of regret.

"My poor little girl, yes you did," he said, reaching out to take her hand and pat it. "Well, give me a few hours to think about what's best, and then we'll decide whether to declare war on James Walton and cover ourselves with the shield of the law, or go right ahead for a change. Will you give me a few hours, my dear, say until this time tomorrow?”

"Oh yes," she said with a relieved sigh. "Please forgive me; I can't change all that."

"I know, I know," he said, smiling. “By the way, tomorrow is my birthday; You have to try and celebrate it a little for me.”

She looked at him in surprise.

"I mean, have Sarah Parker cook an extra dinner, and I'll bring home plenty of fruit and flowers; and after dinner we will discuss our plans and fight for freedom. Oh, my love, it will be a great relief for me, because I am very, very worried about you. Too tired to give me some music?”

"No, indeed, no," she said eagerly. "Your words have given me more relief than I can say."

"That's true," he said, "but to be correct I'd have to ask you to read me something to match the poem." But no, let it be one of my favorite songs, and that way

"'The night will be filled with music,

And the worries that beset the day

will pitch their tents like the Arabs,

And sneak away so quietly.'”

"Longer than I expected," Graham said as she left him that night and went to her own room. "Now let's see."

As he wished, Kate tried to quell the excitement in her chest by busily preparing for supper, but the next day passed terribly slowly, and she heaved a sigh of relief as the hands of the clock pointed to Graham's hour of return.

He came in, smiling and content, laden with flowers and fruit, part of which took the form of a beautiful bouquet of lilies, which he handed her, smiling.

"There," he called; "Are they not cute? Finally, I believe that Covent Garden is the best garden in the world. I look forward to my birthday like a child. Here, Ms. Parker, take this fruit and let us have it for dessert.”

The housekeeper answered his call and smiled as she took the basket he had brought in his taxi and shook her head sadly as she climbed back down.

"Hah!" exclaimed Graham; “And I absolutely must have an extra glass of wine to mark the occasion. "It's all right, my love," he whispered with a great deal of mystery. “Plans made, cut and dried. We serve them for dessert.”

Kate gave him a grateful look, picked up her bouquet and pressed it to her lips while Graham went to a table drawer and pulled out a key.

"You've never seen the wine cellar, my dear. come down with me. It's going to be big, but rather wasted for me.”

He went into the hall, lit a chamber candle and returned directly.

"Ready?" he said as she followed him down the dark stairs into the basement. For a moment Becky was seen scooting ahead of them into the darkness just as Graham stopped by a large iron-studded door and picked up a small basket from a table across the aisle.

The door unlocked and opened with a groan, and Graham handed the candlestick to his companion.

"Don't come in," he said; "The sawdust is damp and young ladies don't particularly care for bottles of wine. But they're interesting to middle-aged men, my dear,” he continued as he entered, his voice choked and muffled. Then he heard the clink of a bottle as he placed it in the wine basket and moved on to a container further inside.

"Don't come," he cried; "I can see. That's right. 'Our party tonight is small,' and he came out with the two bottles he'd fetched, stamped the sawdust off his feet, locked the door again, led the way upstairs and carried the wine into the dining room.

Ten minutes later they were seated at the table and Graham opened the bottle of champagne he had fetched himself.

"There, my dear," he said; "You must drink to my health on my birthday," and despite her denial, he persisted. "Oh, you can't refuse," he said. "And like people say, it'll do you good because you're really down and need a boost."

As a result, with the usual compliments, she sipped on another small sip of champagne and dinner was quite enjoyable. Finally she got up to leave.

"I won't keep you long, my love," he said. "Just my usual glass of red wine and until then my thoughts are fine and I can give you my full news."

Kate went to the library, growing more agitated by the minute, struggling to suppress her craving to hear Graham's plans to end the horrible life of foster care. It seemed he would never come, and that was some time after the housekeeper had brought in the tea things and urn.

"Finally," she said, taking a deep breath of relief because there was a footstep in the hallway, the dining room door was heard closing, and as soon as Graham entered, she involuntarily rose from her seat, startled by her behavior new guardian, although she could not explain why.

"I've gotten so impatient," she said hastily as he approached her.

"No more than me," he said; and it seemed to her for a moment that there was a strange light in his eyes.

But she dismissed the thought as absurd.

"Now," she called; "I'm tired of waiting. You found a way to end this terrible tension?”

"I did," he said, taking her hands in his; and she gave them up without hesitation.

"Then please tell me immediately. What are you going to do?"

"Make yourself my dear little wife," he whispered passionately; and he took her tightly in his arms.

Chapter thirty-seven.

For a few moments, Kate Walton lay passively in Graham's arms. The suddenness of the act - the surprise - stunned her, and his words seemed so impossible that she couldn't believe her ears. Then came horror and disgust; She knew it was the truth, and like a flash she realized that everything that had happened before, the chivalrous behavior, the benevolence and paternal tenderness, the wise actions of an unscrupulous man - the result of schemes and intrigues and so on What? In order to get possession of the great fortune, she felt cursed more than ever.

With a small scream of terror, she pushed him back with both hands on his chest, struggling wildly to break out of his embrace.

But the effort was in vain; Despite her efforts, he hugged her tightly again and covered her face, neck, and hair with his kisses.

"Stupid, shy little bird!" he whispered, holding her there, horrified and panting; "What offends you? The first kisses, of course. Don't be so stupid, my dear child; They are the kisses of the one who loves you and will make you his wife. Come, I wasn't tender and patient and I did everything all you could wish for, and isn't this a simple solution to the difficulties that surround you?"

"Mr. Graham, let me go, I insist!" She cried. "How dare you treat me like that!"

"I told you, my beautiful darling. Come, come, be reasonable; Surely, the love of someone who has adored you since they first met is nothing to terrify you. Am I so old and gross that you should carry on like this? Just a few hours ago you squeezed my hands and pressed your face to mine to get my kisses; Now, as I explain myself, you start fighting like a freshly caught bird. Well, Kate, my darling, I'm talking to you like a poetic lover in a sentimental play. Really, being a dry lawyer like me, I didn't know I was capable of such eloquence. Yes, darling, and you play too. Appearance is enough, and there is no one to be seen, so we behave like two reasonable, objective people.

"I want to go—now," she cried, struggling to hold her ground, feeling that in her hopeless state everything depended on her.

"We'll talk about that when you're seated." he cried playfully. "Then you're making me show you that you have to," and he scooped her up in his arms, quickly carrying her to the couch and sitting next to her, holding her tightly in his grip.

'There,' he said, 'the man has the stronger muscles, and the woman must obey; but the woman is stronger in the silken bonds with which she can hold the man, and then he obeys.”

She sat panting heavily, stopping her struggles as she tried to think about what to do next, afraid to yell for help and reveal her position to the two women in the house.

"That's better," he said; "Now you're being sensible. Don't act like you're scared of me. Now listen - There, sit still; you can't escape If you cry out, no sound could reach the servants, for I have sent them to bed; and if a dozen men stood here shouting together, their voices would not be heard through curtains, shutters, and double-glazed windows. I am not telling you this to scare you, just to show you your position.”

She turned and glared at him wildly, then desperately averted her eyes when he said caressingly.

"How beautiful you are, Kate! This warm color makes you more attractive than ever and tells me that it's all just a shy girl's natural reluctance to embrace the man she has enslaved. There is no ghostly pallor, your lips are not white, and you do not faint, but are strong and courageous in your resistance; So let's talk sense now, little Wii. You think I've been drinking Well I've had a glass or two more than usual but I'm not what you think I'm just calm and still and ready to talk to you about your desires."

"Another time - tomorrow. Mr. Graham, I beg you; Pray let me go to my own room now.”

"Checking out the front door on the way and trying to do something stupid? There you see, I can read your mind, my darling. Far from having crossed the line, I'm too sane for it; but you couldn't leave the house because the door is locked and I have the key here. There; begin; Would you like to leave here tonight?”

"Yes, yes, Mr Graham; Pray let me go."

and do many absurd things; But I have him under my complete control and once you are my wife I can force him to relinquish all control over you and your family.”

"Tomorrow - tomorrow," she said pleadingly when she felt how hopeless it was to fight back. 'I'm sick and passed out, Mr Graham; Pray, pray, let me go to my room now.”

"Not yet," he said playfully, without loosening his grip; “There is much more to say. You must make many promises that you will act sensibly; and I want these promises, not out of fear, but because you love me, my dear. Quiet? Well, I have to tell you something more. That's what I decided, my child, when I came to you that night. "I will marry her," I said; "It will solve all difficulties and give her the happiest life."

"No, no, that's impossible, Mr. Graham," she cried. "You've said enough now. You must - you must let me go. Is that your behavior towards the helpless girl who trusted you?”

'Yes,' he said, laughing, 'it's my behavior towards the helpless girl that trusted me; and it is the right treatment for someone who cannot help it.”

"No," she screamed desperately; "And so I trusted you because I believed you were worthy of that trust."

“And so am I, my dear; more than worthy. Kate, love, do you know that I will make you a happy woman, that I will give you the dedication of my life? Every hour should be spent creating a new pleasure for you and making you one of the most envied people of your gender. I'm older but what about it? Perhaps your young imagination has turned to a hero you have envisioned; but you're not a stupid girl. You have so much common sense that you must realize that your position dictates having a protector.”

"A protector!" she cried bitterly.

"Yes; I must be frank with you, unless you throw off all that foolish resistance. Come on, be sensible. Tomorrow or the day after we'll get married, and then we can challenge the whole world."

"Mr. Graham, you are mad!" she cried, with such a look of disgust in her eyes that she suddenly enraged him.

"Insane to love you?" he cried.

"For loving me!" she said scornfully. "No, it is the wretched love of wretched wealth. We'll take it; Just lose me now Let me go. You're a lawyer, sir, and I assume you know what to do. There are pens and paper. Let me go and go, sit down and write; I promise you I won't try to leave the room. If you like, lock the door until you finish writing.

"It's already locked," he said mockingly; and he smiled as he saw her pale.

"Very good," she said calmly; "Then I can't escape. Go and write and I will sign it without a murmur. I give you everything; just let me go. There's no way we'll ever see each other again."

"As a matter of fact!" he said laughing. "Silly child, how little you know about these things! Suppose I want your money. Do you think that anything I could write or anything you could sign would help me without that little hand? Besides, I wouldn't want to be without its mistress—my mistress—that beautiful little girl who showed me during her stay here that there is something worth living for. Here we are wasting our breath. What is the use of fighting the inevitable? Love me for your husband, Kate. I am the same man you loved as your guardian. There I want to be gentle and tender with you. Why don't you quietly give up and say that like a reasonable little girl you will come with me and be my wife?"

"Because I'd rather die," she said firmly.

"As young ladies say in old-fashioned romance novels," he sneered. "You're forcing me to speak very clearly to you. I have to; and you are wise enough to see that every word is true. Listen. You don't have many friends; I could say I, your lover, am the only one; But what would they say when you took that step with me one night, fled your bedroom window, placed yourself under my protection, and lived with me in that old house all these months in seclusion? Little enough, maybe nothing; But there is a definite shrug that people give and that means a lot, my child, when it comes to respect for a woman's character. You see now that you must marry me.”

"No," she said quietly; "I have placed myself under the guardianship of a man almost old enough to be my grandfather. He pretended to be my father's friend and I fled to him to protect myself from insults. Will the world blame me for that, Mr. Graham?”

"Yes, the world will believe and will not believe."

“Then what is the opinion of the world, as you call it, worth? Well sir, I insist you let me go to my room.

As she spoke she struggled violently, throwing herself back over the head of the couch and snapping at the bell pull, with such success that the muffled tones of a violent ringing got where they were.

Graham jumped angrily and Kate, using her momentary freedom, jumped to the door and turned the key, but before she could open it, he was at her side.

"You stupid child!" he said in a low, angry voice; "How can you act-"

Half mad with fear, she lashed out at him, touching the back of her hand sharply to his lips, and before he could recover from his surprise she had gone through the door and fled to her room, where she locked herself and locked herself, and sank then, panting and sobbing hard, on her knees by her bed.

Chapter thirty-eight.

"Yes; what is it?"

Kate Walton lifted her head, which was propped against the bed as she crouched on the floor, and looked around in wonder, aware that someone had called her name, but all else went blank.

There was a knock at the door.

"Yes, yes," said Kate; and she hurried across the room.

"Please, madam, breakfast awaits you, and the compliments of the Lord, and would you come down?"

"Yes; I'll be right down," she called. and then she pressed her hands to her head and tried to think, but for a few moments everything was weird and confused, and she wondered why she should have been sleeping there on the floor , dressed like last night, the flowers she had still carried on her breast.

The flowers were crushed and hurt!

They acted as keys to the locked spiritual door, which sprang open, and in a single flash of light that flooded her brain, she saw everything that had happened before fleeing there, and then knelt by the bed, praying for help and fighting for it had to find an escape route until nature was utterly exhausted and could endure no more. She fell asleep and was awakened by the arrival of the housekeeper.

And she had told her that she would be downstairs in a moment. What should she do?

She rushed to the bell, rang it, and then, heart pounding, waited for the woman's footsteps that seemed like an eternity in coming. but finally there was a knock at the door.

"Did you ring the bell, ma'am?"

"Yeah; I'm not feeling well, I can't get down."

"Is there anything I can do for you, ma'am?"

"NO."

Kate stood thinking for a few moments, her hands cupping her throbbing brows, for her head was becoming more confused again and it seemed as if the spiritual darkness was closing in on her; but once more the light came, and she tore the crushed flowers from her breast, put on her bonnet and cloak, and then hastily her gloves.

She felt she had to leave this house immediately; she couldn't make up her mind then where she was going; that would come later; At the time, all she could think of was escape.

Her preparations lasted only a few minutes, then she went to the door and listened.

As far as she could tell everything was still in the house and shyly she opened the door and opened it gently to look out onto the great landing, but flinched for there was a figure in the darkest corner.

Just one of the statues just behind the big curtain over the archway leading to the small library; and with renewed courage and determination she stepped out and peered warily down into the gloomy hall.

Everything was still there and she could just see that the dining room door was closed, a sign that Graham was inside, eating breakfast alone.

Her breath came and went as if she had been running, and she put her hand to her side to stop the heavy pounding of her heart.

If only she could reach the front door unheard and sneak out!

She drew back, for there was a faint clatter, like putting a lid on a bowl; then footsteps, and as she drew back she could see the housekeeper crossing the hallway with a small tray, entering the dining room, the door of which closed behind her, and a moment later coming out empty-handed and crossing the hallway again. and disappear. Then her voice rose to Kate as she called her daughter.

Graham must be in the dining room at breakfast; and now, desperate in her fear, Kate took a deep breath, walked silently across the soft carpet to the stairwell, and, dress slightly rustling, descended and reached the hall, when she saw that the door appeared to be in its usual state, and she would have been there in a moment, trying to get out, when she was stopped by a faint sound, half ejaculation, half sigh, and turned quickly, there, on the stairs, leaning over the balustrade, watch her, was Becky, with the sunlight shining through a stained-glass window directly onto her bandaged face.

Kate gestured angrily for her to go back and was about to turn back when a firm hand grabbed her wrist, an arm was wrapped around her waist and with a sudden jerk she was pulled into the library and the door was closed, Graham standing there, stern and angry, between her and freedom.

"Where are you going?" he cried.

"Get out of here," she said, boldly looking into his eyes. “This is no place for me, Mr Graham. Let me pass sir.”

"That is not an answer, my child," he said. "Where are you going? What are your plans?"

She didn't answer, but stepped forward and tried to get past him; but he took her firmly and gently, and forced her to sit down.

“As I expected, you have no idea – you have no plans – you have nowhere to go; and yet in a fit of insane folly you would fly away from here, the only place you could take refuge; and why?"

"Because I found that the man I believed in was not worthy of that trust."

"NO; for in an insane moment, when my love for you was breaking the bounds, I spoke up, perhaps too soon, but I obeyed the dictates of my chest. But I will not be making speeches there; I merely wish to make clear what your and my position is. I said much last night, enough to have taught you much; first of all, that our marriage is a necessity, both for you and for me. No, no; sit still and be quiet. We must both be like this, and you must speak sensibly. Now, my dear, take off your cap and cloak."

She didn't answer.

"Well, I won't worry about that now. You will recognize the need after a few minutes. First of all, let me get you the simple facts of your position here. First, the way you compromise yourself is what keeps you here. Yes you have; and if you drove me there, I would openly proclaim that you were my mistress and tried to break our bonds as a result of a quarrel.

She didn't answer, but her eyes seemed to shine.

"Yes," he said with a smile; "I understand your looks. I'm a traitor and a coward and a villain; that is, I assume, your interpretation; But let me tell you that there are thousands of men who would be ten times the traitor, coward and villain you call me in your mind to win you and your smile, which I will do.”

He stood looking down at her with a proud, powerful look, and she involuntarily recoiled in her seat and shivered.

"Secondly," he continued, "I gather from your behavior that you want to be defiant for a few days and try to escape. Well, try it if you want and find out how vain it is. I have you here and I will protect you despite everything. I will be clear and open. For your fortune, and for yourself, I love you with the strong love of a middle-aged man for a beautiful girl who has awakened in him passions he had thought dead. Will you try to escape? No you will not; For the first time, I'm actually going to cage the pretty little bird I caught. You will remain in your room, a prisoner, until you put your hands in mine and tell me you are mine whenever I wish. You will turn to my servants? Well, appeal to them. Will you try to escape through your window? We will give it a try. You must know by now that it opens through a narrow courtyard and attempting to descend from it means death; but there are ways of fixing such a window, and it is done, for I want to live and love, and your death would mean mine."

He paused and looked down at her in quiet triumph, but her gaze never left his and her lips were tightly pressed together.

"I could appeal to your pity, but I won't do that now. I could tell you about my previous loveless marriage and strenuous life with the wretched woman who held me captive; but you will find all this out in time and try to make up for the early misery of my life and for your cruel coldness now. I almost made it there. I bet on it, my child, and I won until I got my prize. In order to be able to enjoy it to the fullest, I have treated you as I have since you have been here. In that time I have taught you to love me as a friend and father. I will teach you to love me now as a husband - a much easier task."

"NO!" she cried furiously. "I would rather die."

“Spare your breath, my dear, and try to get used to accepting your fate. Claud Walton is in town looking for you, and do you think I'm going to let this young scoundrel drag you into a really demeaning marriage? I would rather kill him. Come on, be sensible,” he called, speaking perfectly calmly and not once trying to close the distance between them. "I scared you last night. See how gentle and tender I am with you today. I love you too much to blame you in any way. I love you, I'm telling you; and I know very well that passion still lies dormant in your breast; But I also know that it will sprout and blossom and that one day you will marvel at your behavior towards someone who has proven their love for you. I can't blame myself, even if I was driven by a coup to win you over. Who wouldn't have done the same, I say it again? You have charmed me with your beauty and the beauty of your intellect; and once again I tell you gently and lovingly that you must now accept your destiny and consider me your friend, father, lover and husband all rolled into one. Kate loves you won't regret it so be as gentle and kind to me as I am to you.” I will say it again? You have charmed me with your beauty and the beauty of your intellect; and once again I tell you gently and lovingly that you must now accept your destiny and consider me your friend, father, lover and husband all rolled into one. Kate loves you won't regret it so be as gentle and kind to me as I am to you.” I will say it again? You have charmed me with your beauty and the beauty of your intellect; and once again I tell you gently and lovingly that you must now accept your destiny and consider me your friend, father, lover and husband all rolled into one. Kate loves you won't regret it so be as gentle and kind to me as I am to you.”

He stopped and she sat and stared at him rigidly.

"Now," he said, changing his manner and tone, "there must be no more clouds between us. You don't need to flinch and start flapping your wings, little bird. I'll be patient, and if you like, we'll pick up where we left off last night when you came here from the dining room. I'm the guardian again until you've made this all clear and are ready to accept the inevitable. We can't make you sick and need a doctor."

A shiver ran through her, and as if it were natural to turn to the one who had come when she needed help so badly, she remembered the firm, calm face of Pierce Lewis; but a faint blush colored her cheek, as if she were ashamed of her thought.

Graham saw the lightning in her face and misinterpreted it.

"A means of escaping me?" he said. "What a silly, childish thought! Too romantic for a woman of your mental strength, Kate. No, I won't let you leave me like this. There you must be weak and hungry; Me too. Take off your clothes and come face your guardian at the table, the old-fashioned way. NO? Would you rather go back to your room this morning? Well let it be. Just try to be reasonable. It is so childish to let the servants witness a misfortune as small as this. Since your head is bad of course; and you changed your mind about walking.”

He opened the door to make her pass out and then rang the bell.

"Ms. Parker rang the bell last night," he said meaningfully. “Poor woman, she had gone to bed and came here in alarm; So she knows you got sick and went to your room. I wouldn't let her come and disturb you since you were so excited. – Ah, Mrs. Parker, your mistress does not feel fit to remain downstairs for breakfast. Go and get a tray ready and take it to her in her room.”

The woman rushed to grant Graham's request and Kate rose while he backed off to let her pass.

"The front door is locked," he said with a quiet smile, "and there is no window to open to call for help. Even if you could and people came and asked what was going on, a few words to the sick and insane young lady upstairs would send them away. It is strange how terrified ordinary people are that a disease could be contagious. Are you coming for dinner or early, love?” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper of tenderness. "I will be here and will be only too happy to greet you when you come, sweet dove, with the olive branch of peace between us, and take it as a symbol of love."

She was indeed a prisoner, and the chains seemed to bind and weigh her down as, without a word, staring straight ahead, she walked past him into the hall, controlling a wild, agonizing desire to push herself to the door to fall and called for help and walked slowly towards the stairs when he caught sight of the pale bandaged face peering over the balustrade and then pulled back to disappear.

But when Kate saw it, a glimmer of hope shot through the darkness. Poor Becky - letters - asks Jenny Lewis for help. Couldn't she get a message from the strange looking shrinking girl's hand?

She walked steadily toward her room without once turning her head, aware that Graham was downstairs watching her; but as she reached the first landing she heard a faint cough and footsteps leading to the dining room and she breathed more freely and looked down as she turned to climb the second flight of stairs.

The hallway was empty, and as she looked at the door Becky had slipped through, she called out to her in a low, excited whisper:

"Becky! Becky!”

But there was no answer, and she hastily followed the girl the rest of the way, entering the room through which she had passed, and finding her standing in the attitude of an attentive listening person.

"Becky, I want to talk to you," she whispered; but the girl scampered to a door at the far end and slipped through the dressing-room, by which she could reach the stairs.

This time Kate was too quick for her and grabbed her dress, the girl let out a small moan in desperation, holding back with all her strength while keeping her face averted.

"Don't do that, don't do that," Kate whispered excitedly. "Why are you afraid of me?"

"Let me go; Oh! Please let me go."

"Yes, right," Kate whispered, still holding her; "But please, Becky, I want you to help me. I'm in big trouble, dear - big trouble."

"Uh?" said the girl weakly, "You?"

"Yes, and I really want help. Would you do something for me?"

"No, I can't," the girl whispered. "I am useless; I shouldn't be here; Please don't look at me; and pray pray let me go.”

"Yes, I will, dear; but you will help me Come to my room when your mother is there."

The girl turned her white, grotesque face and stared at her with wide eyes.

"You will, won't you?"

Becky shook her head.

"Not to help a poor sister in need?" said Kate, appealing.

"You're not my sister and I have to go. If he knew I talked to you, he would be so angry."

With a sudden jerk, the girl let go of her dress and fled. Kate had to fight back her tears as she walked to the wide landing and reached her room, thinking of the small library and the account she had heard of the former resident finding life too trying for him and was looking for peace.

Her first impulse was to lock her door, but sensing that she had nothing immediate to fear and that perhaps a show of approval of Graham's plans might help her escape, she sat down to think for her brain, or rather thinking was in a whirl and the thought pushed the thought aside before she had time to comprehend one.

But no sooner had she begun her fight than there was a knock on the door and Sarah Parker came in smiling and brisk with a breakfast tray.

“I'm so sorry ma'am; but I have made you a very strong cup of tea, and your breakfast will do you good. There. Now I'll help you with your things."

"No, no, it doesn't matter now. Ms. Parker, will you do anything to help me?”

“Of course I will, ma'am. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"Why are you smiling at me like that?"

"I'm smiling ma'am? Was I? Oh nothing."

"I insist you tell me. Ah, you know what happened.”

"Well, ma'am, please don't be mad at me about that. You rang the bell so loud last night you gave me quite a fright.”

"Then you know everything?"

“Well, ma'am; You see, I couldn't help it. Me and poor Becky knew from day one that you were going to be the new Missis here.”

"No, that's impossible. I have to leave here immediately.”

"My God, my dear, don't take it like that! Why, what is there to consider? The master is one of the dearest and best men; and think about what an opportunity this is for you and what a home.”

“Oh, silence; Do not talk like that! I'm telling you, it's impossible."

"Ah, that's because you think the master is a bit older than you. But what about that? My poor dear husband was twice my age and he never had just one fault – he would die too soon.”

"I'm telling you, it's impossible, my good lady," Kate called imperiously. "I have been lured into a trap and deceived, and I call on you as a woman to help me."

"Yes, madam, of course I will help you."

"Ah! Then wait here while I drop a line to one of my father's old friends."

"A letter? Yes, madam; but please, the master said that all letters should be brought to him."

"Like they were before?" said Kate, a light flashing in her clouded brain.

"Yes Ma'am; He said it a week or two before you came.”

"Planned, planned, planned!" Kate murmured desperately.

“Yes, ma'am, and of course I have to take her to him. You see he is my master and I will say that of him - a better and kinder master never lived. Oh my dear, don't be so young and stupid. You couldn't do better than he wishes and make him and yourself happy."

"Will you help me, woman, to get out of here? I'll pay you enough to make you rich if you want," Kate said desperately.

“I'll do whatever I can for you ma'am, this is not against the Master; you can be sure of that.”

"Will you post some letters for me then?" Kate cried desperately.

"No, ma'am, please, I can't do that."

"Go away," Kate yelled fiercely now. "Leave me to myself."

"Oh my dear, please don't go on like this. I know you are young and the thought scares you; but it's not so terrible to be married to a really good man."

Kate stormed to the door, yanked it open, and stood there, eyes flashing, pointing outside.

“Oh yes, ma'am, of course I'm going; But do, pray, take my advice. You see, you're going to marry him now and—"

The door closed behind her and Kate began pacing like a shy creature newly awakened from being trapped in a cage and despairing at the thought.

"Helpless and a prisoner!" she groaned to herself. "What should I do? Is there no way out?" And again the thought of Jenny Lewis and her brother came to her mind and the feeling that she could find help there grew stronger.

But it seemed impossible when she wasn't able to write a letter, stamp it and throw it out the window, trusting someone would pick it up and hand it in.

NO; The thought struck her as feeble and vain, and she dismissed it, pacing, hands clasped, clutching them to her throbbing chest.

"There's no help - no help!" She groaned and then gave a faint cry of alarm, for the door behind her opened quietly and the thought that it was Graham crossed her mind as she looked wildly around.

Becky's white, bound face was pushed straight in and the door held in place as if to act as a vertical guillotine and shave her neck.

Chapter thirty-nine.

Kate let out a sigh of relief when she realized her fear was unnecessary and ran for the door when, to her despair, her grotesque head snapped back.

"Becky! Becky!” she cried miserably as the door closed; and she stood still, daring not to approach.

Her action had an effect, for the door was slowly pushed open again, and little by little the faded cotton handkerchief loop that bound the woman's face, the ends sticking out like a pair of small horns trembling visibly, emerged. Then, in tiny increments, the woman's forehead and the rest of her face appeared, and the eyes revealed the whites all around, while her owner stared at the prisoner with her usual terrified gaze, which deepened.

"Please come in, Becky," Kate said softly; and she retreated to a chair to try to instill a little confidence.

The head was slowly shaken and the door pulled tight against the woman's long, thin neck once more.

"What do you want?" she said weakly.

"I want you to come in and talk to me," Kate said in a low, engaging voice. "I want you to help me."

"Not."

"Yes, yes, you dare. Pray, pray, don't say I've got nobody to ask but you. Oh, Becky, Becky, I'm so miserable. If you have a woman's heart in your chest, have pity on me!"

"Gug!"

A spasm tightened her pale face as a violent sob escaped her lips and tears began to flow from the dilated eyes, accompanied by uncomfortable sniffles.

"Please don't make me cry, miss."

"No, no, don't cry, Becky my love, pray," Kate whispered, worried.

"You're making me miss - keep going like this; And please don't call me honey. I am dear to no one; I'm a miserable fellow."

"I've always felt sorry for you, Becky, but you never allowed me to be nice to you."

"N-no, Miss. It's no use. Only makes me unhappy.

“But it has to be me; "I'll be nice to you, Becky, and try to make you happy," Kate whispered.

"That will not be done, miss, till I die," said the woman sadly; and then there was a triumphant gleam in her eyes, and her face lit up as she said in a firmer voice, "But then I shall be happy."

"Yes, yes, and I will try to make you happy as long as you live; but will you help me dear?”

The poor creature shook his head.

"Yes you will - I'm sure," Kate pleaded. "But pray come in."

"No way, miss."

"But I'm in such trouble, Becky."

"Yes, I know; he wants to marry you and he will lock you up until he does. I know."

"Yes yes; and I want to go."

"But you can't," the woman whispered, pulling her head back, and Kate, in her desperation, thought she was gone. But the head slowly reappeared. "Nobody's watching," she whispered.

"I have to go and I need you to help me, Becky," Kate whispered.

"It's not good. He won't let you, Miss. But don't marry him."

"Never!" exclaimed Kate.

"Hush, or they'll hear you; and the mother is on his side and will help him. She says he's an angel, but he has a bright smile and talks to you like a saint, but he's a horrible guy."

"Yes yes. But now listen to me."

"Yes, I'm listening, Miss. It's all because you're so pretty and handsome and you have a lot of money, isn't it?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Kate sighed.

"It's what he wants. He got all the poor old man's money and the house and furniture from him.

"He has?" whispered Kate excitedly.

"Yes woman; I know. Mother says it's all nonsense and that we should love him because he's such a good man. But I know better. The poor old master used to tell me when I took his letters: " Ah, Becky, my poor girl, you're disappointed and unhappy," he says, "but I'm even more unhappy." This man won't be satisfied until he's squeezed every penny out of me and there's nothing left but my dead body .' I didn't believe him and said, "Don't leave it to him, sir." "Ah, Becky," he says, "I'm grateful; "Signed papers are stronger than iron chains," he says, "and he always ends up dragging." But he's supposed to have everything, and end up with heavy pounds of meat, and the bones too. I didn't know what he meant, Miss; and I didn't think that anyone could be as unlucky as me. But I finally believed him when I went into his room and found him dead on the floor; And then I knew he must be worse off than me because I couldn't have done what he did."

"Becky," Kate whispered, fixing her eyes on the trembling woman, "I can understand how people who are very unhappy seek rest in death. Would you like to come here one morning and see me lying dead?"

"Oh, Fraulein!" cried the woman excitedly, pushing the door further open; "Don't do that, please don't go and do something like that. You're too young and beautiful and - oh, oh, oh! Please don't talk like that; I can't take it - pray!"

"Then help me, Becky, because I'm telling you, I'd rather die."

"What but to marry him?"

"Yes, then marry this terrible man."

"Then - then," the woman whispered after pulling her head back to look back, "I feel like I shouldn't, and maybe he'll kill me for it - not, since I seem to care a lot, and Mother would get over it soon, because I'm not useless - but I think I'll try to help you. You want to go?"

In her wild sense of joy and excitement, Kate sprang to the door and would have thrown her arms around the unfortunate woman's neck. But before she could reach it the head snapped back and the clasp snapped loudly, while when she opened it Becky was gone and her mother came up the stairs to get the breakfast tray.

"And not touched one bit, my dear," said the housekeeper with a reproachful shake of her head. “Now you have to, you know; you actually have to. And let me advise you, my dear. Mr Graham is such a good man and so forgiving, and it is really naughty of you to be foolish enough to go against his wishes.”

Kate turned to her with a look that startled the woman, who stood breathless, parted-lips, as a piece of bread was broken off the loaf on the tray and a cup of tea was poured and set aside.

"Take the tray away," Kate said imperatively; "And remember your place. Don't ever resolve to speak to me like that again."

"No, ma'am - definitely not, ma'am," the woman said hastily. "I beg your pardon, ma'am, I'm sure."

"Leave the room and don't come back until I ring the bell."

"My!" exclaimed the woman as soon as she was on the landing, "to think that such a gentle looking little thing can talk like that!" P'rap's master has now caught a tartar.

So there was a glimmer of hope after all. Poor Becky wasn't the empty idiot she used to look like. Kate felt she had found a friend and, trembling with eagerness, went to the desk and quickly wrote a few lines to Jenny Lewis, briefly explaining her position and asking her to take the matter to her brother and ask him for advice.

This she agreed and instructed, then sat and stared straight ahead as she conjured up the following scene in the cabin and the outrage of Lewis. And as she thought, the warm blood stained her pale cheeks again, and she covered her face with her hands to sit sobbing for a few minutes, before slowly tearing up the letter until the fragments were too small to ever be found and to be read by someone curious about their content.

Much as she would have liked to see Pierce Lewis emerge and insist that she take refuge with his sister, she felt she could not make such an appeal to those who were comparative strangers; and although she didn't even want to admit it to herself, she felt that there were other reasons why she couldn't write.

An hour of intense mental anguish and fear passed, and she had to struggle to quell the horrible feeling of panic that almost overcame her, tempting her to rush down the stairs to escape once more, or go to one of the front windows , throw her up and scream for help.

"It would be an act of madness," she sighed, remembering Graham's words about the sick lady. "And they would believe him!" She cried, feeling helpless as she realized how completely in Graham's power she was.

Then thought of her aunt and uncle, her natural protectors, and she decided to write to them. James Walton would pick her up immediately, for he was her guardian; And surely, she told herself, she was woman enough now to insist that her wishes be given due respect. She could resist her cousin's advances; and her behavior in going away showed itself in the strongest colors, as cowardly - the act of a child.

With renewed vigor, she wrote to her aunt, explaining everything in detail and asking—not begging—her to tell her uncle to come to her aid immediately. But as soon as the letter was written, she sensed that her aunt would behave in some feeble, stupid way and there would be delays.

She slowly tore open this letter, and after hiding the pieces, she sat and thought again, frowning, the look of anguish deepening on her face.

"I have the law on my side. He is my guardian and he must not do anything but be fair to me. I am no longer the weak child.”

And once more she took paper, and this time wrote to James Walton himself, telling him that Graham had lured her away with promises of protection, but ended up showing himself in the most hideous colors.

"He has to - he's supposed to protect me," she said jubilantly, hastily straightening the letter.

But as she sat with the letter in her hand, she winced and trembled. For in bright colors her imagination painted before her the difficulties and persecutions she would face. She knew exactly what James Walton's goals were and that in his position he would do nothing to achieve them. In vain she persuaded herself that anything would be better than being at the mercy of John Graham. The terror of rushing back headfirst to her guardian, and the thought of his triumphant looks as he held her once more, proved too much for her, and this letter was slowly torn up and the pieces hidden.

As she sat there, her nerves on the rack, a strange sense of faintness came over her, and she winced in horror at the thought of losing her senses and being at the mercy of this man. And as she paced hastily, trembling as she felt her fainting increasing, she felt a certain relief, for she understood that her fainting was due to lack of food, and it was past noon.

The bread was near, however, and as she turned toward it, she began to crumble and eat the pieces, though with great effort she managed to accomplish her task.

But it had the desired effect - the sense of doom vanished. And now she set herself the task of finding someone to call for help from among the few friends she had known before her father's death; but she could think of no one to turn to in such distress. There were the people at the bank and the doctor who had treated her father during his last illness, but they were so strange in comparison that she hesitated to write to them; And finally she sat there, exasperated and seemingly refusing to do anything, feeling like there was no other soul in the world she could trust except the Lewiss. She could send Jenny, who she knew would be in arms in an instant; but there was her brother. She could not and dared not ask him; and it would be so, she felt as she asked him.

And then came the question that sent a shiver down her spine – what must he think of her, and would he come to her aid as he would have done before she committed such a hasty act?

Kate's weary musings were interrupted by a knock on the door, causing a fit of tremors, and she slid towards it to unbolt the bolt, which had barely settled when the housekeeper's voice was heard.

"I beg your pardon, ma'am, but lunch is ready and Master would be pleased to know if you are well enough to come down."

The answer was sternly no, and she was undisturbed for about fifteen minutes. Then there was another knock and the clatter of china and glass.

"Please, ma'am, I brought your lunch."

She hesitated for a few moments. The desire was great to refuse to accept anything, but she felt that if she was going to keep challenging Graham until she could escape, she needed to have energy and strength. So she reluctantly opened the door, the housekeeper came in with a tray and put it on the table.

"May I tell you something else, ma'am, and would you like some wine?"

"No," was the abrupt reply in a tone that didn't want to bear an answer, and the woman walked away, the door locking behind her.

The lunch tray looked pretty nice, but remained untouched for a while. The prisoner had made a desperate decision, and when she sat down again, she wrote a pitiful letter to Jenny, begging for help, passed it, and laid it ready to give to poor Becky when she returned. She didn't have any stamps, but she did have some money, and no doubt the girl would mail her letter safely.

The desperate step made her feel better, and when she felt that her state of siege must last a few more days, she sat down and forced herself to eat again, but shied away from touching the water in the carafe and looking suspicious and preferred to eat some of what was in the room.

The tray was fetched in time and the housekeeper smiled contentedly; but she walked away without a word, and Kate felt she would go straight to Graham and tell him that lunch had been eaten.

She flinched a little, but felt it was inevitable, and feeling better, she went to the door she had locked, opened it a little, and stood there to wait for Becky's arrival.

But the hours flew by, and with a creeping sense of terror she saw the winter evening rapidly approaching and thought of the night.

Whenever there was a footstep, she was quivive, but every time it was the mother. The daughter, who before had always seemed to glide around the room like a ghost, was now invisible, and as Kate watched, she saw the housekeeper light the jets in the hallway and then descend into the kitchen area.

Twice she backed away and bolted the door, for she heard Graham cough slightly and saw him cross the hall from the library to the dining room, and each time she allowed a few minutes to pass before she dared open the door and look out again . The last time was to become aware of the fact that dinner time had come again, and shortly after the woman had begun to climb the stairs, Kate withdrew and bolted to stand and onto the To listen to the message she knew was coming delivered.

"Master's compliments, are you well enough to come down ma'am?"

The brief negation sent the messenger downstairs again, and the prisoner was undisturbed for a few minutes when he heard a tray being brought to the door, but this time he was denied entry.

Kate was watching intently again now, feeling that Becky would in all likelihood try to see her while her mother was busy in the dining room, but time passed and there was no sign of her and thoughts of the desperate attempt to find her to reach the front door attacked the listener but was repelled.

"It would only mean insulting me," she said, growing more desperate as she closed and locked the door again, expecting a new message to be sent up.

There was another knock on the door just in time, without telling her to come down.

"I brought you some tea, ma'am."

Kate hesitated to let the woman in, for the memory of the scene at the same hour the night before flashed through her mind, but instinctively sensing that the messenger was alone, she opened the door and let her in.

"Compliments, ma'am, and he hopes your quiet day of rest has done you well. He says he won't bother you seeing him tonight, but he hopes you'll be yourself again in the morning. Good night, madam. I won't bother you again. Things can be left on the side table. Is there anything else I can do?”

"No, thank you," Kate said coldly.

"Very good, ma'am."

The woman walked back to the door and Kate's last hope of asking a friend for help faded when she heard her sigh and say softly, apparently to be heard:

“Poor dear sir; It's very sad."

"Good night!" said Kate, involuntarily repeating the woman's words. “God help me and protect me during the long vigils and awaken in me the thought that will bring me help. How dare I sleep?”

The answer came from nature - imperative, and which knew no denial; Once again the prisoner awoke to her astonishment that it was morning and she must have slept in a chair for many hours.

chapter forty.

Hoping that an opportunity would present itself soon and being ready at any moment, one of Kate's first actions that morning was to write a few words clearly on a piece of paper, asking Becky to post her letter, and to enclose it with the letter A note in another envelope which she addressed to the woman herself. She put this in the fold of her dress, where she could pull it out directly, and waited.

It wasn't long before the housekeeper appeared with the breakfast tray and was extremely respectful.

“The Master thought, madam, that you might prefer to have breakfast alone this morning, but he hopes to see you at lunch. He's so bad he's not going out this morning."

"I'm staying on guard for fear I might escape," thought Kate, and a nervous shiver went through her; But rest seemed to have given her mental strength, and after breakfast she felt inclined to scoff at the thought of being held there against her will. "It must be possible to get away," she thought. It only took courage and determination because the only thing between her and her safety was the wall of the house.

Soon after breakfast the housekeeper came again to collect the breakfast dishes.

"Would you mind if I came to tidy your room while you're here, ma'am, or would you prefer I wait until you go downstairs?"

"Do it now," Kate said softly; and to avoid being spoken to, she picked up a book and held it as if reading. But all the while she watched everything with alert senses, and the next moment her heart began to pound wildly as she saw the woman walk to the door, hand out the tray, and it was obvious that order had been put in place.

Becky was there and Kate sat trembling, her excitement mounting when a moment later there was a light knock on the door and Becky was let in to help rearrange the room.

This lasted about fifteen minutes, Becky being careful not to glance at the prisoner, who watched her every move with her head bowed, hoping to leave her alone for a few minutes.

But since the mother was always nearby, no opportunity arose; And finally, as Kate held the envelope twice in her hand, she began to fear that this time she might give up and have to wait until she saw the woman walking past her room.

The disappointment was terrible and Kate's heart sank with despair when the housekeeper suddenly said:

"Well, that's enough - go downstairs."

She stepped back to allow her daughter to pass her, then followed her to the door, where a whispered conversation ensued.

"What? Leave the brush?"

"Yes; on the other side of the room."

"Then be quick. Get it out.”

The housekeeper walked through the door as she spoke, and Becky reappeared to hurry across the room. Her face lit up as she gave the prisoner a meaningful look, pulled something from her chest, placed it in Kate's hands and took the proffered note.

"Now, Becky!" came from outside.

The woman scurried to the door.

"So?"

"Can't find it. There is no flaw.”

The door closed and Kate was alone again to eagerly examine the small package that was handed to her.

It was square, about an inch wide, roughly bound together with black worsted yarn, and turned out to be a sheet of note paper, folded small, containing the words, written in a hideous handwriting:

"You run away. Come down at twelve o'clock and I'll let you out.

Rarely did a letter contain such hope, and as the recipient sat there, pulse racing with excitement, she saw no further trouble. Her lonely position in London, the lack of friends to flee to, the awkward hour of the night - all seemed trifles compared to the great gain, for in a few hours she would be free.

She carefully destroyed the note, burned it in the fireplace and, after opening the window and looking out the window, pondered how true Graham's words had been. But they no longer mattered, for the way to escape was open, and she bitterly regretted sending her letter to Jenny. Then she blushed again as she thought of Lewis and how he would feel if he heard his sister read the letter.

The day passed slowly. A message came asking if she would come over for lunch, but she declined. Later came another message, almost an order, that she would be at her usual place at supper, and to this she made no reply, for none seemed necessary; but she decided not to leave her room.

Then the time passed more and more slowly until it was as if night would never fall.

But she made preparations to be ready when midnight came. They were fairly simple, consisting of a bonnet, a cloak, and the fewest necessities. Their plans were far more difficult: Where to?

She sat and thought of each friend in turn, but with each one there was a difficulty in the way; and though she tried by all means to avoid it, she seemed compelled to take refuge with Jenny Lewis; and when she finally made up her mind to do so, she forced herself to ignore the thought of her brother, while at the same time thrilled with the thought that the path she was taking was the most likely to derail Graham, for Northwood would be the last resort , to whom he would go entrust her escape.

Her head was clearing now as her hopes of escape grew, and the plans always seemed simpler and the way clearer.

Because it was so easy. Graham and the housekeeper would be asleep by that point, and all she would have to do was sneak silently in the dark to where Becky would be waiting for her. She would take her to the basement and she would be free. If she could persuade them, she would take the poor creature with her. She would be a companion and a protector, and take her nocturnal journey from her strange appearance.

The rest seemed just minor things. She walked a little and then took a taxi to London Bridge Station, where she waited for the earliest morning train to depart. Officials may find it strange, but she was able to take refuge in the waiting room.

And now, convinced that her ideas were correct, she thought about her letter to Jenny. She wouldn't get that until just before her arrival, but it would have prepared her and everything would be fine. The only fear she had now was that she might run into someone from the Manor House at the station. On the way, the station fly would hide her from prying eyes, but the thought prompted her to carefully lay out a veil that was ready for use.

Then there was a kind of reaction; Wasn't it crazy going to Northwood? Her uncle would soon know, and as soon as he knew he would insist that she go back, and then...

Kate looked no further ahead as there was a knock on the door and the housekeeper appeared, smiling at her and handing her a note.

She recognized at first glance that it was in Graham's handwriting and refused to accept it, whereupon the woman placed it on the table near her elbow and left the room.

For a full half hour Kate sat, determined not to open the letter, trying not even to look at it; but human nature is weak and unable to control the desire to know its contents, and she apologized on the grounds that it might have some connection with her plans for the night - a connection compelling her would change them--and picked it up, opened it, and then sat and stared at it desperately.

It was a large envelope, and the first thing that fell out was her letter to Jenny, apparently unopened but crumpled and dirty, as if it had been held in a hot and dirty hand; while the other part of the contents of the envelope was a letter from Graham, in which he called her stupid and childish, and asked her if she thought his threats so vain and empty that he had not taken precautions, she not one so feeble plan to try.

“I can't be mad at you,” he concluded, “I love you too much; But I beg you, in your own interest as well as mine, to act sensibly and stop forcing me into a path that demeans us both. Come, dearest, be wise; behave as a woman should under the circumstances. You know exactly how I adore you. In return, show me a little pity and let me enjoy the first fruits of it tonight in your presence at the dinner table. I promise you won't regret your descent. My treatment shall be one of knightly respect, and I will wait as long as you wish, if you will only give me your word to be my wife.”

Was there another way to send the letter? Could she throw it out the window hoping it would be picked up and attached? She wasn't afraid and spent the tedious minutes thinking that she had to give it up. But she woke up after a while. Apparently the mother had taken the letter from Becky and handed it to Graham; But the flight was Becky's own suggestion, and now that she'd run into trouble, as she would have over the letter, she'd be all the more likely to go on the flight.

Dinner was announced, but she refused to go down, and after eating off what was sent up, she waited and waited until bedtime was near, and by her conduct gave the housekeeper reason to believe that she was in bed She was going to leave and tied her up. She loudly opened the door as the woman left the room after saying good night.

And now came the crucial time. She knew Graham's habits from old experience. He read for about half an hour after the housekeeper had locked and bolted the front door; and then go up to his room, which was at the front on the second floor; and she stood at the door and listened through the long leaden minutes to the sharp clang of the bolts and the rattle of bar and chain. Her forehead was throbbing and her hands felt damp in the palms of fear of a new twist on Graham's pursuit, and she would have given anything to unlock and open her door, to stand in the dark and watch. but the mere thought made me tremble with fear.

At last the familiar sounds could be heard clearly, and now she imagined what would follow—the stairwell and hallway lights going out, as the housekeeper and her child went to bed in the attic, leaving the place in darkness, saved where one faint beam of rays emerged from under the library door. Half an hour later the door would be opened and Graham would walk past. Then it would be almost an hour before she dared to slip away.

The agony and tension were now so unbearable that Kate felt she had to do something or else she would go insane; and finally she quietly undid the bolt, opened the door, and looked out.

Everything was dark, and after listening intently, she slid out inch by inch until she reached the balustrade and peered into the hallway.

Just as she had imagined, a few faint rays erupted from the library door, and a muffled cough could just be heard.

She snuck back to listen, but first hastily closed and bolted the door, donned her bonnet, veil, and cloak, then snuffed out the lit candles on her dressing table.

That done, she crept back to the door and stood there, waiting to hear a noise or see the glow of a candle as Graham walked up, but she waited in vain.

It must have been half an hour long ago, and she was happy to admit that she hadn't heard him go to bed once since she'd arrived. The thick carpets and the position of her door would muffle the sound and block the light that spilled down the landing, and when another half hour had passed she worked up the courage to open the bolt again.

It slid back silently, but the hinges gave a soft crack as she opened them, and then she stood there, heart pounding, ready to slam the door and shut it again. But all was still, and finally, inch by inch, she silently crept out again until she could see down into the hall.

Her breathing was easier now, for the faint streak of light from the library was gone, and in the utter stillness of the place she knew the door must be wide open and the fire almost gone, at least once the faint clink of dying ash was shut here that collapsed.

He must have gone to bed.

For a moment, Kate Walton felt ready to rush down the stairs, but repressed the urge. It wasn't yet the appointed time and she crept back, closing the door and forcing herself to sit and wait. Becky had said twelve o'clock and it would be foolish to go downstairs earlier.

The place had never been so quiet. The distant rumble of a taxi sounded extremely faint, and it was as if the big city was dead for the time being. And now her heart sank again at the thought of her endeavor. She would plunge into the stillness and darkness of the streets, it seemed to her then; and the thought was so frightening that she felt she must accept her fate, for she dared not.

The soft chime of a clock sent a shiver through her, and she was once again inspired by the courage to try. Becky would have snuck and waited and after the difficulties with the mail business might have been willing to go with her. "Yes, she must go," she said; and now, with all her nerves strained at the highest level, she opened the door and stood for a few moments and listened.

All was perfectly still and she hesitated no longer, walking quietly and quickly to the stairs, holding onto the banister and beginning to descend, her dress making a faint rustling noise as it slid across the thick carpet.

Her goal was the door that led to the kitchen stairs, and the only fear she had now was that in the dark she might touch one of the hall chairs and leave it scraping on the polished floor; but she remembered where everyone was standing, and after a short pause, confident that she could get straight to that spot, she continued into the darkness, reaching the mat, and then realizing that there was a faint, twilight-like glimmer came up from the fan light above the door.

Then her heart seemed to stop, because right in front of her was something shadowy and dark.

"One of the statues," she thought for a moment, then turned to flee, but stayed where she was.

"Becky," she whispered, and a hand touched her arm.

Chapter forty one.

A wild, desperate scream escaped Kate Walton's lips as the firm grip of a man's hand closed on her wrist, pinning it.

"Hush, you silly girl," she whispered angrily, and a strong arm threw her around, releasing the wrist and cupping a hand to her lips. "Would you like to alert the house?"

Her only response was to struggle violently and try to pull her hand out of her mouth, but she was helpless and the arm around her felt like iron.

"It's no use fighting, little bird," one whispered. "Aren't you ashamed to make me watch you like that and stop you from committing such a folly? What madness! Try to leave home at midnight with the help of this miserable idiot girl and dare to be alone in the street. Really, Kate, you need a vigilant guardian. Well, since you prefer the dark, come and sit with me; I want a quiet conversation with you. Kate, my dear, you're making me do all this and you need to see the reason now. It's no use fighting. Come with me calmly and sensibly, or I swear I will carry you.”

Her answer was another desperate struggle as she turned her head, breaking the pressure of his hand and letting out another piercing scream.

"Be silent!" he wept violently; and he was just about to lift her off the ground when she almost squirmed freely, and in his attempt to regain his footing he caught his foot on the mat and nearly fell.

It was Kate's chance. She lunged at him with one hand, swatting him wildly with the other, ran to the stairs and jumped up, just reaching her room when a light came on from above, showing Graham a dozen steps down, too late for her to catch up before her. The door was slammed shut and fastened.

Then, as she stood there, panting and about to faint from terror, she heard Graham's angry voice and the housekeeper's wailing replies, while, although she couldn't understand a word, she could tell from the tones that the woman abused for being down and trying to find an excuse.

Little did Kate Walton know of how that night passed, except that it was one great struggle to overcome a faint feeling of abject helplessness that made her say, "I can't do any more."

Sometimes, due to utter mental exhaustion, she would fall into a kind of drowsiness that was more than sleep, from which she would inevitably wake up with a small cry of horror and despair, feeling that she was in great danger and that the darkness populated was something she must fight against in spite of her weakness. It was a nightmarish experience, repeated over and over, and the gray morning found her feverish and weak, but only physically. Desperation had driven her to bark, and there was a gleam in her eyes, a firmness in her words, which impressed the housekeeper when she arrived at breakfast time.

"Compliments to the master, ma'am, and he's waiting for breakfast," she said; "And I beg your pardon, ma'am, but I thought I should tell you that he is very angry. I've never seen him like this before; and if you were ruled by me, I would go down and see him. I know you were very hard on him; and I am sure you do not wish to hurt the feelings of one who is the best of men."

Kate sat in silence and looked away from her, encouraging the woman to continue.

"He was very upset when he found out you had persuaded poor Becky to post a letter for you. Suspecting her, he made her go to the library and forced her to confess. and Then he took the letter from her. But that was nothing compared to what he was when he realized that instead of going to bed, Becky had come back down and was waiting to try and let you out. I thought he'd put her out on the street straight away. But oh my dear, he's such a good man, he wouldn't do that. But he said it was a shameful treason on her part. And just between us, my dear, it was utterly impossible. I know that the Master has taken every possible precaution to prevent you from leaving. He told me, that it was just a stupid fit of yours and that you didn't mean it; And, oh my dear, pray, pray, be sensible.

Sarah Parker stopped speaking and stood, lips parted, blankly looking at the prisoner, who had slowly turned her head and fixed her with indignant eyes.

"Silence, you wretched creature!" she said in a low, angry whisper. "How dare you speak to me like that! Go down to your master and tell him that I will see him when he has finished his breakfast.”

"Oh please come now ma'am."

"Tell him to let me know when he's free and I'll come."

Kate pointed to the door and the woman hurried out.

However, she returned after a few minutes with a breakfast tray, which she put down without a word, and again Kate was alone; but she winced when she heard a noise at the door, and ran noiselessly towards it to unbolt it; But before her hand could reach it, there was a faint click, and she knew the key had been taken out and replaced on the other side. She was locked in for the first time and a whisper told her Graham was there.

The struggle with her weakness had not remained without result. An unnatural calm—the calm of despair—had changed her, and she was no longer the frightened, trembling girl, but the woman willing to fight for whatever was dear to her in life. Knowing that she was physically weak and exhausted, she sat down with a strange calm to the breakfast that had been brought up, eating and drinking mechanically, but thinking deeply for a while about the challenge she had sent to Graham, and collecting their powers for the encounter.

A full hour had passed before she heard a sound; And then the key was turned in the lock, and the housekeeper appeared.

"The master is in the library, ma'am," she said, "and will be pleased to see you now."

This was said with a meaningful smile that said a lot; but Kate didn't even glance at her. She calmly left her room, descended the stairs and went straight into the library, where Graham greeted her with outstretched hands.

"My dearest child," he began.

Waving him aside, she went straight to her usual spot and sat down.

"Ah!" said Graham as if to himself; "More beautiful than ever, in her anger. How can she be surprised that she drove me half crazy?"

"Will you be so kind as to sit down, Mr. Graham?" she said, looking at him steadily.

"May I not rather kneel?" he said pleadingly.

"Would you be so kind as to understand, Mr. Graham," she continued, her tone caustic in disdain, "that you are speaking to a woman whose faith in you has been utterly destroyed, and not to a weak, shy girl."

"All I can think of," he whispered gravely, "is that I am in the presence of the woman I adore, a woman who will forgive me everything and become my wife."

"Your wife, sir? I came here this morning, repulsive as the task is, to tell you what you do not want to see - that your suggestions are impossible, and to demand that you place me back in the care of my guardian immediately."

"To be forced to marry that miserable boy?" he wept passionately; "never!"

"May I ask you not to waste your time acting, Mr. Graham?" she said with cutting irony. "You call me 'My dear child!' You are a man of enough common sense to know that I am not the stupid child you wish me to be and that your words and behavior are no longer intrusive.”

"Ah, still so cruel!" he cried; But she met his gaze with such biting disdain that his lips tightened and the anger he felt was revealed in a twitch at his temples.

"You have now fully exposed yourself, sir, and at this point you must understand your position as fully as I do mine. You have committed a shameful act.”

"My love – I swear it was my love," he cried.

"Of gold?" she said scornfully. "Is it possible that a man who is supposed to be a gentleman could stoop to such pathetic language as that? Let's understand each other immediately. Her attempts to replace the fallen mask are pathetic. Come on, sir, let's treat this like it has something to do with your plan. You want to marry me?"

"Yes; I adore you."

She rose to her feet, frowning, eyes half-closed, expression of contempt deepening.

"Perhaps I'd better put off what I was about to say until tomorrow, sir?"

He turned away from her as if her words had lashed him, but he pulled himself back and forced himself to meet her gaze.

"In God's name, no!" he cried passionately; "Say what you have to say at once and put an end to this folly."

She resumed her seat.

"Very well; let's put an end to this folly. I'm willing to negotiate with you, Mr. Graham."

"Hah!" he yelled with a mocking laugh. "An unconditional surrender?"

"Yes; unconditional surrender," she said quietly. "You played like a gambler for my fortune."

"And your beautiful self," he whispered.

"For my wretched fortune; and you won."

"Yes," he said, "I won. I am the conqueror; but Kate, dear—”

She slowly rose from her seat.

"Would you go on without a mask, Mr. Graham?" she said coldly; and she heard his teeth clench as he literally scowled at her now, with a look full of threats for the future.

"I suppose I am your slave," he said bitterly; but she stopped.

"I would like to continue speaking to Mr. Graham, the solicitor," she said coolly. "If this is going to continue, that's a waste of words."

He threw himself back in his chair and she resumed her seat.

'Well, sir, you are a lawyer and versed in these matters; Can you draw up a paper that means the complete transfer of my assets to you? and I will sign that if you release me.

"No," he said quietly, "I cannot write such a paper."

"Why?"

"Because it would be totally worthless."

"Well, there must be some way I can buy my freedom. The money will be mine when I come of age.”

"Yes, there is a way," he said, looking at her intently.

"What is that, sir?"

"By signing the marriage register."

"I'll never do that," she said, slowly getting up. "Once again, Mr. Graham, I tell you that this money is worthless to me and that I am willing to give it to you in exchange for my freedom."

"And I'll tell you the simple truth - that you talk like the stupid kid you are. You can't give away what you don't have. It is in your uncle's care and the law would not allow you to give it away like this."

"Does the law allow you to force me to be your wife so you can access it as my husband?"

"The law allows you to be my wife," he said, wincing slightly at her words.

"I've shared my decision with you," she said coldly.

"Tentative decision," he said, smiling.

"And," she continued, "I will wait until your reason has shown you that we are not living in the days of romance." Her treatment would be terrible in its baseness if it were not ridiculous. I admit I was scared at first, but one night's quiet thought has shown me where I stand, has given me mental strength, and I will wait.”

"And me too," he said, glaring at her as he leaned forward; but she did not shrink from his eyes, and met them with calm, contemptuous indifference; and he finally jumped up with a furious curse.

"Again, Kate," he said, "understand this: you must and shall be my wife." You may try to defy me, lock yourself in your room and keep trying to escape, but all to no avail. I weighed all of this carefully before putting my plans into action. You hear me?"

"Every word," she said coldly. “Now listen to me, Mr. Graham. I will never agree to be your wife."

"We'll see," he exclaimed.

"I will not lock myself in my room and make no further attempt to leave this house. It would be too ridiculous. Sooner or later my uncle will track me down and hold you accountable. I will not withhold anything, and if he sees fit to prosecute you for what you have done, I will be his willing witness.”

"Then would you go back to Northwood?" he said, laughing.

"Yes; if my uncle were here, I would return with him in a heartbeat. Listening to you that night, I was an impressionable, weak girl. I had faith in you at the time. Events since have made me a woman .”

She got up again and took a step or two to cross the room and he jumped up to open the door.

"We'll see," he said with an angry laugh.

"Thank you," she said calmly. "I didn't want to go upstairs." And to his great amazement, she walked past him to one of the bookshelves, took out the volume she had been studying, and returned to her seat.

He stood there staring at her in total confusion; but she quietly opened the book and, ignoring his presence, sat there reading and leafing through the leaves.

There was a deep silence in the room for a few minutes, except that the clock on the mantelpiece continued to tick monotonously; And then Graham angrily strode to the door and walked out, closing it heavily behind him, while Kate let out a deep, deep sigh and sank back in her chair, her face ghostly and her eyes closed.

The tension had been excruciating and she felt like something in her brain was giving way.

Chapter forty-two.

"Still stubborn?"

Kate turned her head and looked at Graham seriously, but didn't answer.

A week had passed since the scene in the library, and during that time she had quietly resumed her old position in the house, and met her enemy at morning and supper; and while by her manner she utterly repressed any overtures, she showed him that she awaited the hour of her release with confidence.

Not once did she show her weakness, or let him see traces of the misery or despair that tormented her nights, whether asleep or waking; She answered him quite calmly when he spoke on ordinary subjects, but at the slightest approximation of intimacy, or when he showed any inclination to argue about what he called the folly of her behavior, she got up and left the room, and somehow her behavior impressed him so much that he didn't dare to stop her.

He felt, as she had told him, that it was no longer the weak girl he was struggling with, but the firm, imperious woman; while her confidence in her own power grew as she realized on more than one occasion that she had fully mastered it.

But the position remained the same, and as soon as she was alone, the fight with another enemy began. Despair always came insidiously, taking her life and teaching her that her triumph was temporary; and she often shuddered to think of the hour when her strength and resolve would fail.

Another week started and she noticed that there was a definite change in Graham. Accomplished actor as he was, he had reverted to his earlier treatment, except that he no longer played the gracious guard but the chivalrous lord, full of deference and respect for her smallest wish. He made no advances. There was nothing about his behavior that even the most conscientious would object to; But now that she knew for sure that he had only covered his face with a fresh mask, she was more wary than ever and let her introspection slack for just a moment.

She could only sense that he was biding his time, that this was a siege that would be protracted, but that he was waging with the firm belief that sooner or later it would surrender.

She was convinced that he sometimes left the house; but how or when, she never knew, and he spent most of his time in the library, evidently working hard on seemingly legal matters. Japanese tin cans had turned up, and more than once she had seen the table littered with papers and parchments; but all these disappeared into the boxes at night, and the evenings passed as before, though the conversation was distant and short.

Finally, about a fortnight after the new regime was put in place, she was walking down the stairs one afternoon when she had evidence that Graham was gone, for a key rattled in the door, he stepped in and stopped with the door being opened , while a taxi driver brought in a large case of deeds, set it down in the hallway and the door was closed and bolted. Thereafter Graham was lifting the box to carry it into the library, when he saw Kate descending to enter the inner room to which he had shown her on the morning of her arrival, and in which he was now passing a large room much of his time.

When their eyes met, she saw that he looked pale and emaciated, and at that moment she realized that something had happened that was troubling him. Her heart leapt, for of course she had the feeling that it must have something to do with her, and in the brief burst of jubilation she sensed that help was coming and rushed into the room to hide the excitement she was feeling.

And now, for the first time since she had tried to escape, she saw Becky descending from the top of the stairs, but the view was only there for a brief moment. As soon as she realized she was being watched, the pale woman pulled away.

There she stood, panting heavily, as if suffering from a heavy exertion. Because she felt that Graham would follow her and that there would be a scene; but the minutes passed, and all was quite still, and little by little her firmness was restored; But instinctively she had a feeling that something was going to happen, and the fear of whatever it was made her want to escape.

And now it occurred to her again that it was absurd, that she was in prison where it seemed to her that all she had to do was open the door and go out, or go down to the basement and wait for one of the workmen to come down and explore the area and then take the opportunity to go there.

But she had tried and failed. The doors were always locked except when traders or postmen came; and then there was the area gate. Nobody ever came down.

Dinner time came and she quietly took her place. Graham was calm and cordial, if a little quieter than usual; but it was plain enough that he was suffering from an unusual excitement as he addressed the housekeeper. Because he criticized almost everything and finally dismissed her in a fit of rage.

"Servants are so thoughtless," he said with an apologetic smile. "This woman knows exactly what I like, and yet if I don't throw tantrums at her from time to time, she becomes hesitant and careless. But I beg your pardon; I should have waited until we were alone.”

Kate soon got up and went into the library, where as she read she became faintly aware of voices in the hallway; and, expecting the housekeeper to be confronted again, she forced herself to think only of her book, and shortly after the silence and the closing of the dining-room door informed her that Graham had turned back to his wine.

His post-dinner stay had lengthened now, and it was already nine-thirty when he joined her, sometimes having a cup of tea but more often refusing her and staring in silence at the fire.

On this occasion she sat until the housekeeper brought in the tray of tea and placed it on the table, while outside a faint hissing noise told her that the urn was waiting; and Kate thought that Becky had to stay there until her mother came to collect it, and she wondered if it would be possible to exchange a few more words with the woman and if she would be too scared to try to send another letter.

Kate suddenly looked up to find the housekeeper watching her oddly, but turned away in confusion and fetched the tea caddy to sit by the tray. And again Kate found herself watching them, and it seemed to her that she was doing so with a pitying look in her eyes. This idea soon gave way to another. The woman wanted to talk to her and her subject would be Graham.

"That's enough, Ms. Parker," she said; When the woman gave her another strange look and Kate saw the woman's lips move, she said nothing aloud and left the room, leaving the resident thoughtful and remorseful. For it struck her that the woman's eyes had a pitying, sympathetic expression, and that a few words of appeal to her better feelings might not avail, and that perhaps help might come through her after all.

Should she call and try?

A few minutes of thought and the idea grew less and less vivid until it finally died.

"She wouldn't dare even if she did," thought Kate; and calmly and methodically she set about making the tea, casually noting that the screw holding the decorative knob to the lid of the silver teapot had been loosened and replaced in place with what appeared to be resin was attached.

It was a small thing that didn't seem to matter at the time as she turned on the hot water from the pot, rinsed out the pot for the tea and sat thoughtfully while she gave it time to brew. Her thoughts turned to the old subject, the escape route, or finding a way to send letters to both Jenny and her uncle.

She awoke from her reverie, poured herself a cupful, picked up her book, absorbed it, and settled back to sip her tea from time to time until about half the cup was gone before she realized that she had an odd taste, but concluded that it was fresh tea and she had made it a little too strong.

The old German book was interesting and she kept reading and sipping her tea until she had finished the cup and then sat frowning as the last spoonful or two intensified the peculiar taste.

It was very strange. The tea was very different. She smelled the dregs in her cup and the smell was strongly herbaceous.

She tried it again and it was stronger, while the taste now clung to her palate.

She sat thinking for a moment, putting down her book, pouring some water from the urn into the spare cup and examining it.

Pure and tasteless, just boiled water; there was nothing; So she pulled the pot to her side, opened the lid and smelled it.

The smell was distinct enough. A dull, flat, flat scent that sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a name to it.

"What strange tea!" She thought; And then the secret was out, because she saw the fastening of the lid handle. It was as it usually looked; but the screw was loose and it turned and rattled in her fingers. The dark, resinous stain that had held it was gone, melted by the heat and steam, and hence the tea's special flavor.

"How stupid!" she exclaimed; and she rose from her seat and rang the bell.

The housekeeper took longer than usual to reply and Kate was about to call again when the woman appeared, looking nervous and scared.

"Did you ring the bell, ma'am?" she asked; and her voice sounded weak and hoarse.

"Yes; look at that teapot, Ms. Parker; smell the tea."

"Is - is something wrong with this, ma'am?" the woman faltered.

"Item? Yes! How could you be so stupid! I noticed that something was used to attach the button to the lid."

“Yes – yes, ma'am; it has been resolved. The screw has gotten old.”

"What did you fasten it with - resin?"

"I – I didn't do anything about it, ma'am," the woman faltered, her face now ghostly.

"Someone did it and it melted in the tea. It tastes awful. Take the pot and wash it out. I have to do something new.”

"Yes ma'am," the woman said eagerly, glancing from the teapot to her and back again. "You'd better make something fresh, of course."

She sighed in relief, but Kate saw her hands were shaking as she picked up the pot.

"There, be quick. I will not complain to Mr Graham and give you another scolding.”

"Thanks, ma'am - no, ma'am," the woman said weakly, glancing behind her at the door and then clutching the table for support.

"What's the matter? Are you unwell?" Kate asked.

"N-no, ma'am - a little faint and dizzy, that's all," she faltered. "I - I'm better now - it's starting."

"You're sick?" said Kate kindly. "Don't even make the tea. I'll go down to the basement and get you some brandy. Sit down for a few moments. Yes, sit down; Your face is covered with cold sweat. Do you have the habit of turning around like that?”

The woman didn't answer, but leaned back in the chair she'd been pushed into, groaning slightly and wringing her hands.

"No, no," she whispered wildly; "Do not go. He is there Not me. I'm feeling better straight away. Miss Walton, I couldn't help it, my dear; he - he did it. Don't say you drank any of that tea!"

It was Kate's turn to grab something to prop her up as the horrific truth hit her. and she stood there with a ghostly face and wild eyes staring at the woman who had now got to her feet.

She couldn't move for a few moments, but finally the reaction came, and she gripped the housekeeper's arm tightly and put her lips to her ear.

“You are a woman – a mother; For heaven's sake help me! Hurry while there's still time. Take me with you now.”

"I can't - I can't," came back weakly; "I don't dare; it is impossible."

Kate pushed the woman away and with a sudden movement clasped her hands in front of her head to collect herself, because a strange singing was heard in her ears, and objects in the room seemed far away.

The feeling was temporary and was replaced by a sense of wild exhilaration and strength, but that passed almost instantly; She swayed and saved herself from falling by holding onto one of the armchairs into which she sank and sat staring helplessly at the woman who was now speaking to someone - she could not see who - but the words spoken rang to her ears above the strange metallic chant that filled her.

“Oh, Lord, pray – pray, just think! For heaven's sake, sir!'

"Curse you, shut up and go! Dare to say another word and - do you hear me? – go!”

Kate felt a thin, cold hand grip hers for a moment; Then a wave of misty light that she could not penetrate passed gently before her eyes, and that wave gradually deepened; The voices got further and further away and then everything seemed to have passed.

Chapter forty three.

"Curse you! Do you hear what I'm saying?” Graham roared furiously; "leave the room!"

"No sir, I won't!" cried the housekeeper as she stood at Kate's side, sobbing and wringing her hands. "It's terrible; it's shameful!"

"Be silent!"

"No, I won't be silenced now," the woman cried. “You are my Lord and I have done everything you have told me up until now because I thought she would just hold back and that in the end she would agree and be happy with you; But you're not the good man I thought you were, and the poor darling knew you better than I did; and I wouldn't leave her now, not if I died for it—so there!”

"Come, come," said Graham hastily; "Don't be absurd, Sarah. You're excited and don't know what you're saying.”

"I never knew better what I was saying, sir," the woman exclaimed passionately. "Absurd! Oh, God forgive you - you bad guy! And also forgive me for listening to you today. You surprised me, and I didn't get the full meaning of it all. Oh, it's shameful! - it is terrible! And I think you killed her; and we'll all be hanged and serve each other righteously, only I hope poor Becky, who's innocent as a lamb, gets away."

“Look, Sarah, my good wife; You're scared, and for no reason."

"For no reason? Oh, look at her - look at her! She's dying - she's dying!"

"Hush, you stupid woman! I won't be angry with you; You are scared and hysterical. Run to the dining room and get the brandy from the basement.”

"NO. If you want brandy, get it yourself. I won't move from here until that poor darling has come round or is stiff and cold."

Graham gritted his teeth and launched himself wildly at the woman, but she didn't flinch; and he controlled himself and paced the room once or twice before looking at her again and beginning to hold back.

"Look, Sarah," he said in a low, hoarse voice; "I was a good friend to you."

"Yes sir, always," the woman said through sobs.

"And I made a home here for your idiotic child."

'She's not an idiot at all, sir, but she's not for everyone; and grateful that I was always for your kindness and you know how I tried to show it. Didn't I support you in that? Of course you wanted to marry such a dear, sweet, young creature; but that it comes to that! Oh! Shame on you, shame!”

Graham gestured violently, but controlled himself and stopped by her again.

"Now just try to listen to me and let me speak to you, not as my old servant, but as my old friend whom I have trusted on this delicate matter and wish to continue to trust to help me."

"No sir, no. You ruined it all and I will never leave the poor there!”

"Will you hear me speak first?" Graham said, trying hard to contain his anger.

"Yes sir, I will listen," said the woman; "But I'll stop here."

"Now, as a friend, mind you, let me tell you how I'm doing. It is important to me that we marry immediately and you must see as a woman that for the sake of her reputation she should give up all resistance after being here with me for so long. Now you see that-"

"I would have said 'yes' to that yesterday, sir," the woman said firmly; "But I can't say tonight."

"Nonsense! I'm telling you, it's to her advantage. I just want her to feel that further resistance is futile. So, I've spoken to you. You see, it's for the best. Tomorrow or the day after we will get married with special permission. I have made all the arrangements."

"Then go now and organize all the preparations for the poor darling's funeral, you bad, bad fellow!" the woman cried passionately as she sank to her knees and wrapped Kate around the waist. "Oh, my poor darling, my poor darling, he murdered you!"

"Silence, idiot!" Graham yelled in a heavy whisper. "Can't you see she's just sleeping?"

"Sleeping? Do you call that sleep? Look at her poor, staring eyes. Feel her hands. - No, no, stay back. You shall not touch her."

She turned to him with a gesture so fierce and feline that he stopped, frowning and clenching his hands.

There was a brief pause, but the woman didn't flinch; and Graham felt more than ever that he had to hold back again. He broke out in a mocking laugh.

"Oh, you silly woman," he said. "All that nonsense about a girl holding back for a while. You often heard her say how much she liked me. You know she came here of her own free will. And I know you feel like I want to marry her as soon as I can persuade her to come to church. What a fuss you make for nothing! She took something. Well, you consented to it being given to her; and you're going out of control like I poisoned her."

"I know, I know," the woman cried, "and I was a vile fellow who agreed to help you."

"Nonsense, Sarah, old friend. Now look here; Let's assume that it wasn't a harmless sleeping pill, but that she had an extra glass or two of champagne. Would you have continued like that then?”

“It's no use talking; I know what a supple winning tongue you have, like dropping a bird from a tree; but I know you well now; and Becky was right; You're a vile man, and you worried on and on, poor Mr. Jennings, until he shot himself. You robbed him until you had everything that was his and now you have murdered this poor dear girl.”

"That will do," Graham cried, now deeply hurt. "If you want to be a fool, you have to suffer for it. Now listen to me, woman; This is my house and this is my wife. She came to me and she is mine. I told you I'm going to take her to church. Now go up to your room - I'm desperate now - and if you dare make a noise or put it off until tomorrow morning, I'll shoot you and your girl too."

The woman stared at him with parted lips and wide eyes.

"You know what this place is. No sound comes out. Not a soul would ask about you, and the world would never know what became of you. Now go."

She stood up, trembling like a leaf, mesmerized by his fierce eyes, and began to slowly walk sideways to the other side of the table, trying to keep as much distance from him as possible.

"Hah!" Through clenched teeth he said, "Then you finally understand me. Upstairs now," and as he spoke he quickly stepped to Kate's side, dropped to one knee and grasped her freezing hand. But the next moment he jumped up, half dazed, because with a wild scream the woman pushed open the door as if she wanted to escape him, but yanked out the key.

"Becky! Becky!” she screamed.

"Yes mother!" came from where the bound face was stretched across the first floor balustrade.

"Lock yourself in the Master's room, open the window and yell murder until the police come."

"Damnation!" roared Graham; And he lunged at the woman and grabbed her who was clinging to one of the bookshelves and dropped it with a crash on the floor and there was a scream from upstairs.

"Stop them," Graham yelled. "Well, I give in. Here, Becky, your mother will speak to you.”

"Lock yourself in the room, but don't yell until I tell you or he will come," the woman shouted.

"That's enough," Graham said angrily, loosening his grip, causing the woman to run back to the uncaring girl and hug her once more.

Graham began pacing the room but stopped at the door to reach out and see Becky's white face and her eyes staring down from above showing the white circles around her.

Seeing him, she rushed into his bedroom and stood half inside, ready to lock herself in if he tried to climb up.

A wild scream from Sarah Parker brought Graham back to her side.

"I knew it - I knew it!" she cried and broke into a passionate sob; "You killed her. Look at her, sir, look. Oh, my poor darling, my poor darling! God forgive me! What should I do?"

A shiver of terror ran through Graham, and he bent over his victim, shaking violently now, as he lifted one eyelid with his finger, then the other, bent lower so his cheek was near her lips, and then took her hand , and tried to feel her pulse.

"No no; "She's just sleeping," he said hoarsely.

"Sleep!" moaned the woman hysterically; "You call that sleep?"

Graham took a deep breath and his horror increased.

"Help me put her on the couch," he said hoarsely.

"No, no, I'm strong enough," the woman moaned. "Oh, my poor darling - my poor darling! He murdered you.”

She got up quickly and, in her nervous excitement, put her arms around the helpless figure, lifted him up like a child, carried him to the sofa and laid him down helplessly.

"Oh, help, help!" she moaned in a pathetic wail. "A doctor - get a doctor at once."

"No, no, use brandy - cold water to bathe her face."

"I'm not leaving her again," the woman cried passionately; "I'd rather die."

Graham looked down at her wildly for a few moments, then hurried across to the dining room, got the brandy, a glass, and a carafe of water, and returned to bathe Kate's temples and hands, but to no avail whatsoever, except that her breathing became weaker and the terrible collapse symptoms slowly increased.

"She's going - she's going!" groaned the trembling woman, kneeling by the couch and holding Kate as if to hold her there. "We poisoned them! we poisoned them!”

The panic that gripped Graham intensified as he stared wildly at his work. Although he was a strong man and used to controlling himself, he was now beginning to lose his head; and finally, utterly horrified, he grabbed the housekeeper's shoulder and shook her.

"Don't leave her," he said in a hoarse whisper. "I go from."

"What!" cried the woman, turning and grabbing his arm; "Will you try to escape and leave me here?"

"No, no," he whispered; "a doctor - get a doctor."

"Yes, yes," moaned the woman; “a doctor – get a doctor; but it is too late - it is too late!'

Graham barely heard her words as he bent down and cast a hasty glance at Kate's face. Then he rushed to the door and noticed that Becky was still watching.

"Go down and help your mother," he called excitedly; and he opened the door and rushed out.

Chapter forty four.

Pierce Lewis returned home after a long, busy day of spectators. After careful thought and consideration of the matter, he had long since concluded that Claude Walton's ideas were correct and that John Graham knew where his cousin was. But suspicion was not a certainty, and while he told himself that his behavior was neither warranted nor justified, he could not help but use whatever time he could spare from his professional activity in the city—an activity that was rapidly expanding to use to try Get news about the missing girl.

He was now more approachable and willing to raise the matter with his sister, who continued to be Kate's advocate and stated that she was sure there was foul play in the matter; but he didn't back down and laughed bitterly when Jenny expressed her optimism and said she was sure everything would end happily after all.

"Stupid child!" he said bitterly. "If Miss Walton had been the victim of a crime - which I don't believe - she could have found a way to communicate with her friends."

"But she didn't have any friends, Pierce," Jenny exclaimed. "She's told me more than once."

"She had you."

“Oh, I don't count, my dear; I was just an acquaintance and hadn't had time to develop affection with her. I soon fell in love with her, but I don't think she was particularly interested in me."

"Ah, it was a big mistake," Lewis sighed.

"What was it?" yelled Jenny sharply.

"We're going to Northwood. I lost a thousand pounds on the transaction.”

"And won the loveliest girl in the world to love."

"Don't talk absurd, kid," Lewis said firmly. "I beg you not to use that tone of voice when speaking to me about Miss Walton. Has Claude been there again?”

"I'm asking you not to use that tone of voice with me about Mr. Walton," Jenny said with a mischievous look at her brother, who gave her a sharp look.

"Claud Walton isn't such a bad guy, I guess. All that horse-lovingness will, I suspect, wear off.”

"I'm sorry for the poor woman who has to rub it off," Jenny said.

"You didn't tell me if he called."

"Yes, he called."

"Jenny!"

"I didn't ask him to call, and he didn't come to me either," the girl said reluctantly. "He wanted you and left his card. I put it into practice. I think he said he had news about his cousin."

"As a matter of fact?" said Lewis and got a fright. "When was it?"

"Last night. But Pierce, my dear, it certainly means nothing to you. Don't interfere and maybe make two poor people unhappy."

Lewis turned to her angrily.

"What a good little girl you would be, Jenny, if you were born without a tongue."

"Yes," she said, "but I shouldn't have been half a woman, Pierce, dear."

"Did he say when he would be back?"

"NO."

"Did he specify what his news was?"

"No, dear, and I didn't ask him as I know how anxious you are that I'm even intimate with him."

He glared at her, but she ignored him.

"Was anyone else there?"

"Yes; there was a message from Mrs Smithers saying she hoped you would come by and see her after dinner. Her daughter came - the freckled one. The buzzing in her mother's head had started again, and Miss Smithers says she's sure it's the port because it always comes after her mother has been drinking port for a month.

"Of course. She eats and drinks twice as much as is good for her. - Did young Walton say anything about Northwood?"

"Yes," Jenny said carelessly. “The new doctor got the community work, but he didn't work himself to death. Oh, by the way, there's a letter on the chimney.

Lewis stood and accepted it eagerly, frowning as he read it.

"Bad news, Pierce dear?"

"Ah? Bad? Oh my God no; I have to see Sir Montague Russell at three o'clock tomorrow with Dr. Meet Clifton for advice.”

"Oh! I'm telling you, Pierce, how fast you learn to exercise!"

"Yes," he said with a sigh; and then, trying to be cheerful, "How long will dinner be?"

"Half an hour," Jenny said after checking her watch, "and then I hope they give you a quiet evening." You haven't been home once this week."

"Ah yes, a quiet evening would be nice."

"Are you thinking, Pierce, dear?" Jenny said after a pause.

"Yes," he said dreamily, leaning back with his eyes closed. "I can't bring it all together. He rarely goes into the office, I found that out; and as far as I know he must live in the country. The house I saw him walking to had all the blinds down and the last time I drove by I saw a woman at the gate but I couldn't stop to question her - I have no right to."

"No, dear, you have no right," Jenny said seriously. "It was just your imagination. But strange things happen!”

Lewis flinched and looked at his sister in surprise.

"What do you think?" he said.

"I was merely responding to your remark, dear, about your suspicions about Mr. Graham."

"ME? My remarks?" he said, looking at her oddly. "I didn't say anything."

"Well, Pierce, dear, you just did that."

"No, not a word. I was asleep when you spoke."

"Asleep?"

"Yes. What's weird about that? A man needs rest and I've been out with anxiety for the last three nights. Have I spoken?"

"Yes, darling," Jenny said, getting up and going behind the chair and placing her soft little hands on her brother's head. “I'm talking about that locked house and Mr. Graham. I thought it was impossible and that it would be very wild of you to take a house on this street to be close and watch him, but nothing could have been better. They're just as busy as they used to be in Westminster. But Pierce, dear," she whispered softly, "don't you think we'd be happier if we had total trust in each other—like we used to?"

"No," he said somberly, "I'll never be happy again."

"You will, dear, when one day we meet Kate and the whole mystery about her ends."

"Meet Miss Walton and her husband," he said bitterly.

"No, dear; If I know anything about women, you'll never meet Kate Walton's husband. Pierce, dear, I'm your sister and I've been feeling so lonely lately since we came to London. You have never quite forgiven me for this unfortunate affair. Don't you think you could if you tried?"

He sat perfectly still for a few moments, then reached out and took her in his arms and kissed her long and lovingly.

In an instant she was clutching his neck, sobbing profusely, and he had a hard time calming her down.

But just as quickly she changed again and laughed at him through tears.

"So," she exclaimed, "now I feel ten years younger. Five minutes ago I was a very old woman. But, Pierce, will you confide in me now and make me what we used to be?"

"Yes," he said.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and laid her face against his.

"Then confess it to me, dear," she whispered. "You really love Kate Walton?"

He was silent for a few moments, then his words sounded slow and dreamy close to her ear.

"Yes; and I will never love again."

Jenny lifted her face and kissed him, but immediately tucked it in his chest, burning.

"Pierce, dear," she whispered, "I don't have anyone else to talk to like that. May I confess something to you now?"

"Why not?" he said softly. "Trust for trust."

She was silent in turn for a time. Then she spoke almost in a whisper.

"Will you be very angry, Pierce, if I tell you that I think I'm starting to like Claude Walton a lot?"

"Like him?" he cried contemptuously.

"I mean, I love him, Pierce," she said softly.

"Jennie! Impossible!"

"I always thought so, dear, but that's not the case."

"You stupid baby, what is there about this guy that any woman could love?"

"Something I found out, love."

"For heaven's sake, what?"

"He loves me with all his heart."

"He has no heart."

"You don't know him as well as I do, Pierce. He has, and very heartily.”

"Did he dare to propose to you again?"

"No, not a word. But he's not the same. It was all because of you, Pierce. I made him love me and now he looks up to me like I'm something he should adore and — and I can't help but like him for it."

"Oh, don't think about that," Lewis exclaimed.

"I've told myself that a hundred times, love, but it will come, and — and, Pierce, love, it's very awful, but there's nothing we can do about it when love comes. Do you think we can?"

She slid off him, wiping tears from her eyes as her keen senses recognized a step, and the next moment a calm-looking maid announced dinner.

Nothing more was said, but the manner of the sister and brother was warmer than it had been for months; and though he made no insinuations, there was a half-reproachful, half-sneering smile on Lewis's lips as his gaze met Jenny's.

When dinner was over, he went into her small, simply furnished living room to steal half an hour before hurrying to make the requested call. and he had not left the house for ten minutes when the bell rang hastily.

Jenny clapped her hands and burst out laughing happily.

"I'm glad," she exclaimed. "NO; I should feel sorry for the poor folks. But how do they find out what a dear, smart, old fellow Pierce is! I wonder who that could be?"

She did not remain in doubt for long, for the servant came up.

"Please ma'am, there's that gentleman again who called to see the Master."

"What gentleman?" said Jenny, suddenly getting nervous - "Mr. Walton?”

"Yes Ma'am."

"Did you tell him your master was outside?"

"Yes, ma'am, and he said would you speak to him for a minute?"

"I'm coming down," Jenny said, twisting very hard and stiff; and it seemed to be another person descending into Lewis's office, where Claude, hat on his head, was pacing.

"Ah, Miss Lewis!" he yelled excitedly as he half-walked toward her, hands outstretched.

But Jenny didn't seem to see her; just stood there like a gambler looking at the young guy's hat.

"Ah? What's up? "Oh, I beg your pardon," he cried, sounding confused. "I'm so excited I forgot. But I can't stop; I'll come back little by little and see your brother. Just tell him I found her.”

"Found Kate Walton?" Jenny called, breaking her formality and grabbing his arm so his hand fell directly onto hers.

"Yes, I am so sure. I've been on the trail for a while and have never been able to be sure; but now I am as good as sure, and I want your brother to come and help me, for he has a better right than I to be there.”

"My brother, Mr. Walton?" Jenny said in an ice-cold tone.

"Oh, I say please don't," he whispered earnestly; "I'm trying so hard to show you I'm not as much of an idiot as you used to think, and when you talk to me like that, I feel like I have no choice but to come forward and to be sent to India or Crimea or anywhere to be killed there.”

"Tell me quickly, where is she?"

"I can not yet. I am not completely sure."

"Bah!"

“Ah, wait a bit, then you will see; and when I find her I will bring her here.”

"Here?" Jenny exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes, why not? she likes you more than anyone in the world; he likes her, and -. I can't stop here. Goodbye; tell him I'll be back as soon as possible, because I'm going to see her today.

"But Mr. Walton - Claud!"

"Ah!" he called excitedly and turned to her.

"Tell me one thing."

"Anything," he yelled wildly, "when you talk to me like that. Someone I thought had caught her; I'm pretty sure now, but I'd give anything to stop it, but I can't."

He tumbled into the street, and Jenny returned to her room and to her work, trembling with double excitement, one moment blaming herself for being too revealing with her visitor, and the next moment forgetting everything that was on the news was standing.

"Oh, Pierce, dear Pierce! If only it's true,” she murmured as work fell from her hands and she sat for hours longing for her brother's return. This didn't happen until ten o'clock as she was shaking with excitement and waiting a moment to see Claude Walton come back first.

Chapter forty-five.

Jenny was standing at the window watching people go by when a cab pulled up and Lewis jumped out to lock himself with his key; and she was halfway to meet him when he came up.

"Pierce," she whispered excitedly. "It was Claude Walton. He's sure he's found Kate; and he's coming back to take you to where she is."

Lewis staggered and grabbed the balustrade to save himself from falling.

"Where is she?" he gasped.

"I don't know; he wasn't exactly sure, but he'll be back. He says no one but you has the right to be there when she's found; and Pierce - Pierce - he'll bring her here!"

Lewis looked straight ahead and felt like he could hardly breathe. He followed his sister into the living room but had barely sunk into a chair when the bell rang loudly.

"Here he is!" exclaimed Jenny; and Lewis sprang from his seat to hurry, but restrained himself and stood waiting, to his sister's despair.

"Pierce love," she whispered, "please go."

"I have no right," he said hoarsely; and Jenny wrung her hands, trying in vain to find the right words to say.

The painful silence was broken by the maid's appearance.

“A gentleman to see you, sir; very important."

"Mr. Walton?" Jenny called.

"No, ma'am, a strange gentleman," said the girl. "Someone who is very bad."

Lewis let out his pent-up breath with a sigh of relief and quickly walked down to where his visitor, who looked wild and spooky, was waiting.

Graham! – the man he had watched for months with no result, but who saw him as someone he had never met before.

"Will you come straight with me?" he cried. “My house – just down the street. I'd best tell you right away so you can bring some antidote. Needless to say - a young lady - my wife - a silly argument - a little jealousy - and she took some of that new tranquilizer, Xyrania - a toxic dose, I'm afraid.'

"A young lady - my wife," sounded like the deathblow of all hopes in Lewis' ears. Then he was right: this man had kidnapped her with her consent, and it happened.

"Don't you hear me, sir?" cried Graham; “Lord – I do not know your name; I came to the first red lamp. You are a doctor?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Lewis called hastily.

"Then, for heaven's sake, come before it's too late!"

Lewis was the calm, cold, collected doctor again, and he spoke in an odd tone he didn't recognize as his own.

"Xyrania," he said; and he went to a case full of bottles and glasses, took out one of them, poured a small amount into a phial, corked it, and solemnly said:

"Lead on, sir - quick; But I must tell you that an overdose of this drug is a sleep from which there is no awakening.”

Graham made a soft, hard sound and pointed to the door that preceded him. while Lewis followed him, with his brain-feeling, added to the terrible, crushing burden of depression, as if all the world was nothing now, confused and strange, while wondering that the man did not recognize him; and too stunned to comprehend the fact that he, who had occupied so much of his mind for months, had never met him in person--probably never heard of him, except as some doctor practicing in Northwood.

Then, as they hurried along the pavement and, at the end of another hundred yards, turned onto Great Ormond Street, Lewis was struck by another thought—that if it was Kate he was being taken to, it must have been an In den after all So many times over the past few months he'd glanced at the house in passing and felt an urge to enter, but he'd always suppressed that desire, telling himself it was crazy.

Meanwhile Graham was talking to him in a hasty, excited tone, saying words his companion could scarcely understand; but he caught fragments about "unhappy temper - ??insomnia - enjoyment of the strong drug - his torment and despair" - and then wept wildly as he paused at the door of the familiar house with its overhanging eaves and pocketed the key:

"Doctor - any fee you want, but you must save my wife's life."

"Got to save his wife's life!" Lewis groaned mentally as his heart seemed to be pounding violently. Then he entered the great, gloomy hall.

Chapter forty-six.

"His wife!"

The words kept repeating themselves in Pierce Lewis's brain like the pounding of an artery being ruptured, and the agony seemed more than he could bear; while the revelation, which had been made so brief, told of misery and a terrible desperation that had driven the woman he loved to this desperate act. Had he not thought, he would have run away madly and tried to forget everything by a similar act, for the means were at home and at his disposal, since his suffering was greater than he could endure.

But there was this thought; Her life was in danger and her husband flew to him unconscious and asked for his help. Maybe he could save her - make her owe him this life - and that thought fought his weakness and made him strong enough for now to follow Graham to the library door, just as poor Becky rushed off and disappeared into the door that leads to the basement.

When Lewis came in and saw Kate lying motionless on the sofa with the housekeeper kneeling beside her, he felt a pang that seemed to split his heart; When it passed, he was the quiet, strict doctor again.

"You'd better go, sir," he said sharply, "and leave me with the nurse."

"No: do your work," Graham said harshly; "I'll stay here."

Lewis made no reply, but took the housekeeper's place to examine the sufferer's dilated pupils and test the pulse, then quickly turned to Graham.

"Where are the bottles and the glass?" he said sharply.

"What bottle - what glass?" replied Graham, surprised.

"The symptoms seem consistent with what you say, but I want to be absolutely sure. Where is the drug she took?”

"Oh, it was in the tea, sir," called the housekeeper.

Graham turned to face her with a wild gesture and Lewis saw it. His suspicions were aroused.

"Here, sir," the woman said, pointing to the pot.

"Oh yes," Graham said hastily, "she drank it in her tea."

"She didn't, sir!" the woman exclaimed desperately.

"Shut your mouth!" shouted Graham.

"I won't do that, Doctor, if I'm dying for it," the woman cried. "He drugged her, poor thing. I was obliged to do as he said."

"The woman is crazy," Graham exclaimed. "Get on with your work."

A wild instinct seemed to drive Lewis, on hearing this, to lunge at Graham, seize him by the throat and strangle him; But one look at Kate verified it, and the doctor regained the upper hand.

He poured some tea into a clean cup, sniffed, tasted and spat it out.

"Quite right," he said firmly. "Don't let the teapot be touched again."

Graham winced, for the words he took to mean a charge of murder, a trial for murder, and the silent evidence of the crime.

"Here, you help me," Lewis said quickly; and he rinsed the cup with water from the urn, poured into the cup a couple of teaspoonfuls from a bottle, and, kneeling by the sofa while the housekeeper held the callous girl's head, tried to insert the spoon between her closely set teeth.

The effort was in vain, and he was forced to dribble through his teeth the antidote he was attempting to administer, but no effort was made to swallow it; the callousness was too deep.

"Better?" Graham said after watching the doctor try to revive his patient for half an hour.

"Better?" he said fiercely. "Can't you see, man, she's fading steadily?"

“No, no, she seems calmer and more like a sleeper. Oh, persevere, Herr Doctor!”

"I want help here - the advice and guidance of the best man you can get. Send for Sir Edward Lacey, Harley Street, at once.”

"No," Graham said, frowning. “You seem to be a capable practitioner. It's just a matter of time before the drug wears off, isn't it?"

"Yes, of course; but I fear the worst."

“Keep doing what you are doing, doctor; I believe in you."

At that moment Lewis felt that nothing more could be done - that nature was the great doctor; and he knelt once more by the sofa for a while, while an awful stillness seemed to have fallen over the place, even the housekeeper now looked as if she had turned to stone, and dared not move her lips when she strained to watch the calm white face on the pillow.

"There's nothing more I can do," Lewis finally said in a hoarse whisper. "God help me! How weak and helpless one feels at a time like this!"

The words fell involuntarily from his lips, because at that moment he seemed to be alone with the sufferer, his patient once again, for whose rescue he would have given his own life.

'Oh come on, come on, Doctor!' said Graham, breaking the dreadful silence harshly, and there was a forced cheerfulness in his tone. “It was a little sleep aid; surely the effects will soon pass. You take the case too seriously.”

"I agree, sir," Lewis said gravely, bending lower over the marble face before him and fighting with all his might to suppress the wild urge to press his lips to his temple where an artery was throbbing. that gives us experience. You had better get more help right away.”

"No no. It is merely a revelation where none is necessary. I won't believe she's that bad. Your doctor tends to exacerbate the symptoms.”

"As a matter of fact?" said Lewis, not daring to look at the speaker but bending over his patient once more. "You came and told me your wife was dying."

"His wife, sir?" cried the housekeeper indignantly. "That's a wicked lie!"

Graham turned angrily on the woman, but he had to face Lewis, who jumped up with wild enthusiasm, making every pulse pound and shudder.

"Not his wife!" he cried heavily.

"No, sir, and it never would be."

"Curse you!" roared Graham, attacking her; but Lewis pushed him back.

"Then there was a foul game here."

"How dare you?" shouted Graham. "I summoned you to - but get on with your work, sir. Can't you see that the woman is drinking? – She is insanely drunk now. Hysterical and don't know what she's saying. The lady is my wife and I insist that you go about your business or leave the house. Is that the behavior of a doctor?”

"It's the behavior of a man, sir, facing a villain."

"You insolent dog!"

"John Graham-"

"John Graham!"

“Yes, John Graham; You see I know you! So it is true that you kidnapped or lured this lady to this place where you kept her away from her friends. There is no need to ask why. I can imagine."

"You - you -" screamed Graham, now giddy with surprise. "Who are you that dare speak to me like that?"

"I, sir, am the doctor you summoned to see his old patient, who I fear has died from the effects of the medication you administered," Lewis said with unnatural calm; “The man whose instinct leads him to try to destroy your miserable life as he would that of a noxious animal. But we have laws, and whatever the outcome, my duty is to turn you over to the police.”

"Oh, Doctor! Doctor!" yelled the woman wildly from behind the couch. "Hurry, hurry! See! Oh, my poor, poor child!'

Lewis jumped back onto the couch and fell to his knees, a violent spasm shaking the girl's still body.

Graham stood, face wild with fear, looking down over the doctor's shoulder. He then strode quickly to the back of the library, leaned over a table and took something out of a drawer before stepping back and watching, shaking violently Now as he witnessed the strange spasms that were beginning to subside and a low, panting sound passed over the lips of the sufferer came.

Graham took a deep breath, turned quickly, and headed for the door; But when he got there, Lewis's hand was on his collar and he was thrown violently around and back into the room.

He almost fell, but recovered and stood with his hand on his chest.

"Stay clear of that door," he shouted.

"To let you escape?" Lewis said firmly. "NO; Whether this spasm means death or life to your victim, sir, you are my prisoner until the police get here. You - madam, go to the door and have the police summoned or summoned."

The housekeeper started off, but with a violent swing of his arm Graham threw her back, and then slowly, with a half-crouched motion, approached Lewis, like an animal about to pounce.

"Step away from the door and let me pass," he said hoarsely.

"Go back and sit in that chair," Lewis said sternly; and he now stepped towards him slowly and warily.

"Stay clear of that door," Graham said again.

"Hah!" Lewis exclaimed, catching a glimpse of something in the man's hand; and he sprang at him to fling it aside, when there was a flash, a loud bang, and as a puff of smoke rushed into his face, Lewis turned suddenly, and with a heavy crash fell halfway across the table opposite.

At the same moment, Graham jabbed a pistol into his chest, charged for the door and yanked it open to run straight into the hallway, where he was grabbed by a man and a violent struggle ensued, with Graham desperately attempting his escape opponents to force them back to the stairs; Chairs were moved back and forth, one of the marble statues fell over with a crash, and twice Graham almost shook his opponent off.

But he wrestled with a younger man who was tough, wiry and well trained, while Graham, despite the desperate strength fear was giving him at the moment, was portly and his breath was panting.

“Here, girl, open the door; Call for help - I can't hold him!” came panting.

A soft wail was the only reaction, and poor Becky, standing by the front door with her face tied, covered her completely with her hands and seemed about to faint.

The fight continued here and there, and again there was the gleam of a gun and a voice called out:

"Ah! Coward, fight fair."

As these words were uttered, the speaker lunged frantically to try to catch the pistol, his weight pushing back Graham, whose heels caught on a heavy fragment of the broken statue piece, and whose owner fell with his back to the ground. Head banged violently against another piece of marble.

The next moment his opponent sat, unconscious and exhausted, on the fallen man's chest and snatched the pistol from his hand.

"I thought he had done me. Here, you're quite a guy, you are! Why didn't you call the police?"

"Oh, I don't! I'm not!” Becky sobbed.

"Not you, not you!" grumbled the announcer. "Hello! Help someone! Hello Kate! Are you in there? What, Doctor! Then you finally got here. I went to your house."

Because suddenly Pierce Lewis appeared at the library door, where he was standing and leaning on his side.

Chapter forty-seven.

"I'm saying he didn't shoot you, did he?"

"Yes - through the arm," Lewis said weakly. "Better direct. Can you keep him under control, Walton?”

"Oh yes, I'll hold the beggar down," Claude said, loading the pistol. "Do you hear, sir? You move a hand and as sure as I have you here, I'll shoot. Send someone to fetch a doctor.

"No, no," Lewis called out more firmly; "Not yet;" and he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and folded it with one hand. "Tie that tight around my arm."

"Then you take the gun - that's it - and leave it to the guy if he moves. I won't get rid of him. kneel."

Lewis obeyed, having picked up the pistol, and Claude tied the handkerchief tightly around his arm.

"Hurt you?"

"Yes; but the disease is receding. Enger: It will stop the bleeding."

"All right; but I say we'd better see a doctor," Claude said excitedly.

"Not yet. We don't want a revelation," Lewis said worriedly.

"Shall I get one, sir?" said the housekeeper.

"NO. How is she now?" said Lewis worried.

"Nevertheless, sir," the woman said, stifling her sobs.

"I'll be right back. Go back; There is nothing to fear now.”

A burst of hysterical sobbing came from the front door where Becky was crouched, burying her face in her hands.

"Take her with you," Lewis said hastily; and he stood in front of Graham while Becky walked into the library, trembling with fear.

"Here, wait, what's your name?" Claude called. “You acted like Trump. It's all right; he can't hurt you now."

"No," Lewis said in a hoarse whisper as the two women entered and the door swung open; "Anyone else. See."

"Er?" said Claude, puzzled. "What about?"

"Can't you see that?" Lewis said, leaning forward and turning Graham's head slightly to the side.

"Pooh!" exclaimed Claude. "Blood! I didn't mean it like that. He must have hit his head on that piece of marble."

"Yes," Lewis replied after a brief examination, "the skull is broken. We have to get him out of here."

"Not dangerous, is it, Doctor?" said Claude, appalled.

Lewis didn't answer but got up and sat down in one of the chairs in the hallway.

"What is it - fainting?" said Claude.

"Yes - get me - something - he can't move."

"She seems to be asleep sooner now, sir," said the housekeeper as she appeared at the door. "Oh no no; don't let him get up!"

"It's all right, old lady. Here, do you have brandy? The doctor is injured and unconscious.”

"Yes sir; "Yes sir," the woman said with a horrified look at the two injured men as she made her way into the dining room, from which she returned directly with a decanter and glass.

"It's port, sir," she said, her voice trembling; and she poured a glass.

Lewis drained it and stood up.

"I'll be right back," he said.

"That's right. I'm saying I don't quite like the way he looks."

Lewis bent over the prostrate man but said nothing and went into the library, where he spent five minutes tending to Kate. and at the end of that time he rose with a sigh of relief.

"Will she come around, sir?" the housekeeper whispered, her voice shaking.

"Yes, I think the worst is over. The medicine I gave her counteracts the effects of the drug.”

"Oh oh oh!" blurted out Becky; and she dropped onto the carpet and took one of Kate's hands and placed it on her cheek and held it there while she rocked back and forth.

"Becky! Becky! You can't do that," her mother whispered.

"Leave her alone; "She won't do any harm," Lewis said calmly.

"Are - are you going to call the police, sir?" the woman faltered.

"No, certainly not yet," Lewis replied; and he went back into the hall.

"I say," Claude said in awe, "I'm very glad you came." He's not dying, is he?"

In response, Lewis got down on one knee and conducted a new investigation.

"No," he finally said; "But he's very bad. I can't help but carry it, but it needs to be taken to one of the rooms."

"Get the old girl out and we'll carry him," Claude said; and after a moment or two of thought, Lewis went into the library, and stood there a while examining his patient, and then motioned to Becky and her mother to follow him.

At his direction, a blanket was brought, placed under the injured man, then everyone went to a corner and he was carried into the dining room and laid on a sofa.

"I don't like calling the police or a strange surgeon," Lewis whispered to Claude. "We don't want this affair to go public."

"By George, no!" said Claude hastily.

"Then you have to help me. I can do what is necessary; and these women can take care of him.”

"But I can't help you," the young man protested. "If it were a horse, I could do something. Don't understand men."

"I do to an extent," Lewis said, smiling faintly. Then to the woman: “You can go back now. Call me immediately if anything changes.”

The two trembling women walked out, and after another feeble protest, Claud manfully removed his coat and, in Lewis' direction, bandaged the painful wound caused by Graham's bullet, which had struck high up in Lewis' arm and passed right through it a very short distance under the skin.

"Nothing," Lewis said coolly as the wound was plugged and bandaged, the table napkins coming in handy. "Well, Walton, you'd be a real head turner."

"Pooh!" cried the young man, shuddering. “I would like to lie on one. Sick as a cat.”

"Have a glass of wine, man," Lewis said, smiling.

"I'll just do that," Claude said, taking a sip. "Thanks, since you're so urgent I think I'll take another one. hah! That gives a guy Dutch courage,” he sighed after a second good sip. 'It's a good port, Graham. I have ill health for you - you beast."

He drank the rest of his wine.

"I'm saying, Doctor, you don't expect me to help shape his head, do you?"

Lewis nodded as he pulled his shirt sleeve over the bandage.

"But the brute would have shot me too."

"Yes, but he's down, my boy, and you don't want to jump on a fallen enemy."

"I don't know much about that, doctor," said the young man dryly, "but you should know."

"Maybe," Lewis replied, "but I'm what you would call quirky, and I have to treat him like a man who's never done me any harm." Come on, your wine has you captivated. Let's go to work."

"Do I have to? Wouldn't it be better to put the beggar out of his misery? He's no good in the world and has done a lot of harm to everyone he knows."

"Difficult fracture," Lewis said gravely as he wrapped his hand around the unconscious man's head, "but not difficult. He must have fallen with tremendous force.”

"Of course he did," Claude said. “He had both my weight and his own weight on him. Can he hear what we say?”

“No, and that will not be the case in the future either. Now take the scissors from my purse and cut all the hair on the back. There, cut tight: fear not.”

"Worry! Not me," said Claude, laughing, "I'm going to take everything off and make him look like – as I hope he will be – a convict."

He began snipping diligently, talking lightly to quell the feeling of impotence that still plagued him.

"Imagine I'm going to be an old Graham's barber! I say, Doctor, you'd like to keep a strand of the beggar's hair, wouldn't you? I want one.”

"Watch what you're doing," Lewis said quietly; and while Claud continued cutting, he prepared bandages with one hand and his teeth from another of the fine damask napkins; and despite the pain he had endured, he bandaged the injury and eventually sank exhausted into a chair, but got up at once to go to the library.

"How is she doing?" said Claude worried upon his return.

"It's wearing off and I'm hoping she'll come around in two or three hours."

"Then look," Claud said anxiously, "should I—I mean, should you send someone over and tell her how it's going?" She'll be terrified."

Lewis frowned slightly.

"You mean my sister, of course," he said. "NO; she knows I've been called to an emergency, but she doesn't know it's here."

"Doesn't she know? I'll say I'm a bit confused about how you got here though."

"This man got me."

"Did you get yourself? How did he get into it?

"Of course without knowing who I was. But how did you get here so cheaply?”

"Oh, I've watched and tracked him long enough to chase him down to earth; and I've been trying to get to him for days. Finally caught the woman with the head tied - only tonight - and wanted to bribe her but she told me everything and after she told me everything she said she would let me in. So I went for you, and since you were out I had to try and get Kate away right away. You know the rest I say, that's what you call a climax, isn't it?"

Lewis sat and stared at him sternly, but Claude didn't avoid his gaze and kept walking.

“Now look here; Of course he caught her for her money and she can't stop there. But she must be removed as soon as she can be moved."

"Naturally."

"Yes, of course," Claude said firmly. “It's not the time to hold on to ourselves; We must think of her, poor girl. Damned! I feel like I could rip all the bandages off him—a beast!”

"Then what do you suggest?" said Lewis calmly.

“Well, for now, we'd better bring her to your house. She must be in a terrible state and the best thing for her is to be with someone she loves. It will do her immense good to find Jenny's - I beg your pardon, Miss Lewis' arms around her."

“Yes, you are quite right; and I could go to a hotel.”

"Hmph! Yes, you should probably do that, but I was thinking of something else if you don't mind. The governor is shut up with gout, so I think I should go home and get the Mater. She talks a deal, but she's a happy motherly type and likes Kate. "There's nothing wrong with her, just that she's a little soft on her beautiful boy - me, you know," he said with one of his old grins.

Lewis flinched a little and Claude's face immediately turned serious.

"I'm saying," he said hastily, "it was strange that he came and picked you up, wasn't it?"

'Yes,' said Lewis, 'a strange twist of fate, or whatever you like to call it; and yet simple enough. It was a case of panic; He was looking for a doctor and my red light was the first he saw. But basically it was the same when we were boys; If an escapade gave us strong reasons to avoid a certain person, he was the very first one we met.”

'Yes, Mr Walton; What you suggest is the best course to follow and I think it is our duty to your cousin; We can agree later what to do with this man. You and your relatives may see fit to prosecute him, but rest assured that his injury will keep him a prisoner for a long time to come."

“Yes, I assume that fall was quite normal damage, but you also have to think about prosecution. The law does not allow people to use pistols.”

"We can talk about that later. Now I would be very grateful if you would go to my sister and tell her whatever you think is necessary. When she has gone to bed, she needs to be woken up. Ask her to be ready to receive Miss Walton, and then I think you should go to Northwood and fetch Mrs Walton.”

"All right - like a shot," Claude said eagerly. "I mean directly," he exclaimed, blushing a little. "But, um - is that what you mean?"

"Of course," Lewis said, smiling; "Why shouldn't I? Let me be honest with you if I can, feeling like a red-hot rod is poking a hole in my arm. Recently I felt like if there was a man I could never befriend, that man would be you; But you taught me that it's dangerous to judge someone based on a cursory knowledge of what's important to them. I know you better now; I hope to get to know you better in the future. Would you shake my hand?"

"Oh!" cried Claude, gripping the hand violently and the next moment dropping it as if it were red-hot. Because Lewis' face twisted and he fainted from the agony the glass caused. "What a mindless animal I am! Here, have another glass of wine from this beast.

"No, no, I'm better now. There, quick! It must be very late and I don't want my sister to have gone to bed. However, I daresay she would stand up for me for a while.”

"Yes, I'm gone," Claude exclaimed excitedly; 'But let me say - no, no, I can't say it now; But you have to mean it, otherwise you wouldn't have spoken like that."

He had reached the door when Lewis stopped him.

“I'll go in first and see how your cousin is; Jenny would like the latest report.”

"Definitely better," he said on his return; and Claude hurried out of the house.

"He said 'Jenny,'" he murmured as he ran toward Lewis' new home. "'Jenny', not 'my sister' or 'Miss Lewis'." Oh, what a lucky animal I am! But I wish I wasn't such an idiot!"

Chapter forty-eight.

Before morning Kate recovered enough to be taken to Lewis's house; But it took days for her to regain full consciousness and her brain fully awake to the present and the past. She was lovingly cared for by her aunt and Jenny Lewis, who was her companion as far as Northwood, while Claude kept the doctor company about town and, as his assistant, accompanied him whenever he visited Great Ormond Street. Lewis, despite his own injuries, continued to mentor Graham until he was completely out of danger, although it was months before he was able to return to his practice.

It was about time he went there, for the place and his country home in Kent were responsible for representing his creditors, as for Graham, the moneylender and speculator, what had come as a financial crash was a very large sum.

Poetic justice or not, John Graham was financially and physically bankrupt; His bold attempt to salvage his position by making Kate his wife was the player's final blow.

Of course James Walton was involved; Under Graham's direction he had mortgaged his property heavily, and the money was now called, and ruin was facing him just at a time when he was prostrate with illness.

"It's pretty hard on the old man," Claud said one day when he came into town and visited Lewis, "'cause the governor's held his own in Northwood all these years and might have done well now, if there." hadn't been old Graham. He persuaded the governor to speculate and then when he lost persuaded him to continue with the doubles game or give up the game and Johnny must have made something nice of it. Of course, if it had been sheep or turnips, the old man would have all been there; but it was a fat turkey playing cards with a fox, and I suppose it all comes down to the hammer.”

"Very bad for your mother," Lewis said.

"Oh, I don't know. I say: may I light my pipe?”

"Oh yes; smoke away while you still have brains."

"It's better to smoke your brains off than catch an infection in the doctor's office. How do I know someone wasn't sitting in that chair with the epidemics? - Ah! That's better. I say it's a pity you don't smoke, Lewis."

"Is it? Then I'll take a cigar with me to help stem the infection. I actually had a rheumatism patient in that chair this morning."

"Ah? Do you have any? Well, I'll risk that. Ah, you look more outgoing now and like you couldn't have roused yourself from my call.”

"I couldn't have done that because I was so happy to see you."

"You were? Well, you didn't see that. You said it was bad for the mother. I don't think she'll mind if the boss isn't worried. She's pretty much the happiest old man Girl who ever lived if only things went smoothly. The crash hits me hardest. It's Othello's job, gone, and no doubt really with me. I say, don't you think I could be a surgeon? I have many friends in the Midwest pack and if they knew I was in this job I could all have accidents.”

"No," Lewis said, smiling; "You are not fit to be a doctor."

"I don't think I'm cut out for anything Lewis and things are looking very bleak. I can farm, and of course I could have continued if the governor hadn't smashed. But it's heartbreaking, Lewis; it is on my soul. I haven't been home in weeks. Was with an old aunt.”

"You shouldn't abandon a sinking ship, my boy."

"Well, I know that," Claude said angrily; "And that's why I came here."

"Why did you come here?" Lewis said, staring.

"Yes; don't pretend you can't understand."

"There is no excuse. Explain yourself."

Claud Walton had only just lit his pipe but he knocked it empty on the bars and sat staring straight ahead.

"I want to do the square thing," he said; "But I'm such an impulsive beggar and I can't trust myself. I want you to send your sister home. Kate is fine again; Mother informed me in a letter; and she has her lawyer down there doing business. Look Lewis, it's not right for me to be down there with your sister at the manor. I can't see a shilling in front of me now and that's not fair to her."

Lewis looked at him sharply.

"I'm going to have to marry Kate after all," Claude continued with a bitter laugh. "Do you hear, hated rivals? We cannot afford to miss the opportunity. Oh, I say, Lewis, I wish you would give me a dose and put me out of my misery, for I am about the unhappiest beggar that ever lived.”

"It's definitely looking bad for you," Lewis said. "How about you apply for the stewardship of a country gentleman - you understand?"

“Oh yes, I understand ranching and farming in general; but who would have me? Hanged if I could not enter a cavalry regiment; That's about all I'm fit for.”

"Don't talk nonsense, my boy. Where are you staying?"

“Nowhere – just come up. I need to find a cheap room somewhere.

"Nonsense! You can have a bed here. We'll have dinner somewhere and talk afterwards. Maybe I can help you."

"With something from the Tintry-cum-Fuldicum bottle?"

"I have many friends; but there is no rush. We will see?"

Claude reached out and took Lewis's hand.

"Thanks, old boy," he said. "That's very kind of you, but I'm not going to stoop to you. However, if you are interested and could get me something for a trip abroad, I would be happy. Am I busy now, I suppose?”

“Yes, I have to treat patients. Be with me at six, then we'll go somewhere. But remember, you'll be sleeping here while you're in town. I want to help you and be able to lay my hand on you right away.”

The result was that Claude stayed with his friend for three days; and on the third, at breakfast, Lewis had received a letter from his sister, enclosing a letter from Mrs. Walton to her son, whose address she did not know, but thought he might have called on Lewis.

"Ah? News from home?” said Claude, taking the note while glancing intently at Lewis's letter. "I'm saying, how is she?"

"My sister? Fair enough," Lewis said dryly.

Claude sighed and opened his own letter.

"Poor old mother! she's such a dear old goose; She worries to death about me, and - what! - oh, I say. Here Lewis! Hooray! After all, there is life in a shell.”

"What do you think?"

"Why, listen here. Do you know I told you Kate has her lawyer down there?"

"Yes," Lewis said, frowning slightly.

"Well god bless her for the sweetest and best girl that ever breathed! She has arranged for all of the governor's present debts to be settled by taking on the mortgages or whatever they pay. The mother doesn't understand, but she says it's a family arrangement; and what do you think she says?”

Lewis shook his head.

"That she is sure that her father would not have seen that his brother wanted to bless God. What a girl Lewis, you're all over now. Great admiration for her noble cousin Claude, and - damn it, old fellow, don't look at me! I feel like I'm about to suffocate."

He hurried to the window and looked out for a few minutes before returning to Lewis, who was smoking his cigar earnestly.

Claud Walton's eyes had a particularly weak expression as he stood next to Jenny's brother and his voice sounded odd.

"I'll take the next train down," he said. "That means work at home goes on as usual and I won't be a beggar now, Lewis. I say, old man, I'll play the real man here. Can I speak to her directly now?”

"Whatever happened I shouldn't have minded because sooner or later I know you would have given her a home."

Claude nodded.

"And look," he called, "why don't you come down with me? Kate would be happy to see you. Only wouldn't you bring Jenny back?"

"Take my loving message to my sister," Lewis said, ignoring his companion's other comment, "that I would ask her to come home immediately."

"Because I'm going under?" pleaded Claude.

"Yes," Lewis said seriously, "because you're going under."

A year and a half passed, and Kate Walton had become full mistress of her property, and other matters remained, as the lawyers say, “in statu quo” except that Jenny was back with her brother. James Walton was very heartbroken and his son began to be spoken of as an aspiring farmer. John Graham was in Boulogne and his stepson had married a wealthy Australian widow in Sydney.

Jenny had repeatedly tried to persuade her brother to propose to Kate, but to no avail.

"That's so stupid of you, love," she said. "I know she would say yes to you straight away. Of course any girl would if you asked her to.”

"Yes, I am a noble specimen of humanity," Lewis said dryly.

"I think you're the proudest and most sensitive man that ever lived," Jenny exclaimed angrily.

"One of them, sister."

"And next time I'll advise her to propose to you. You couldn't refuse."

"You're late, dear," he said gravely, recalling a letter he'd received a month earlier that accused him of ignoring the writer's existence and forcing her to retire humble and write.

The letter contained words burned into his brain and he had a bitter struggle to stay away from it. Because in simple, heartbreaking language she had said: "Should I never see you and tell you how I pray every night for the one who twice saved my life and made life possible for me, and say that I'm still worth it." Am I to be called his friend?" ?"

Pride - honorable sentiment - true manhood - whatever it was - he fought and won, for in his unworldly way he told himself that in his early struggles for a position he could not ask a wealthy heiress to be his wife.

"I know," Jenny said often, "that she wishes she had hardly a penny in the world."

It is not our job to grant our dearest wishes, but Kate Walton granted her wishes, albeit in a way that brought misery to thousands but safety to many who have lived since.

Because the great trade crisis broke out over London. One of the major banks collapsed, dragging others with it like collapsing houses of cards. Among other things, Walton's Joint Stock Bank collapsed, and in its ruin two-thirds of Kate's money went out like paper on fire, leaving only a few tiny sparks in the tinder to sparkle and disappear.

"Oh, how awful!" Jenny exclaimed when the news reached Lewis. "What a terrible shame! I really need to visit her, she's in such trouble now.”

"No," Lewis said, straightening up with a sigh of relief, "let me go first."

"Pierce!" Jenny exclaimed excitedly as she lunged at her brother's chest, her face glowing from the result of shockingly selfish thoughts surrounding Claud Walton and marriage, "and you want to ask her that?"

He nodded, kissed her lovingly and rushed to Kate Walton's side.

The interview was strictly private, of course, but the consequences were not long in coming, and among other things, James Walton made his will – ??the will of a straight-forward, honest man.

There were people who said that the passage of the Limited Liability Act was largely due to the way Kate Walton's fortune was swept away. This was undoubtedly a fiction, but much good came out of evil.

The end.

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Pages

Condemned By Wealth

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

chapter three.

Chapter Four.

chapter five.

chapter six.

chapter seven.

Chapter Eight.

Chapter Nine.

Chapter Ten.

Chapter Eleven.

chapter twelve.

Chapter Thirteen.

chapter fourteen.

chapter fifteen.

Chapter Sixteen.

chapter seventeen.

Chapter Eighteen.

Chapter Nineteen.

Chapter Twenty.

Chapter twenty one.

Chapter twenty-two.

Chapter twenty three.

Chapter twenty-four.

Chapter twenty-five.

Chapter twenty-six.

Chapter twenty-seven.

Chapter twenty eight.

Chapter twenty-nine.

chapter thirty.

Chapter thirty-one.

Chapter thirty-two.

Chapter thirty three.

Chapter thirty-four.

Chapter thirty-five.

Chapter thirty-six.

Chapter thirty-seven.

Chapter thirty-eight.

Chapter thirty-nine.

chapter forty.

Chapter forty one.

Chapter forty-two.

Chapter forty three.

Chapter forty four.

Chapter forty-five.

Chapter forty-six.

Chapter forty-seven.

Chapter forty-eight.