He has no right to risk
his life in so desperate an adventure."

Mrs. Cunningham smiled quietly over her work. The Squire had often
confided to her how glad he would be if these two should some day come
together. In that case the disclosure after marriage of the real facts
of the case would cause no disturbance or difficulty. The estate
would be theirs, and it would not matter which had brought it into the
partnership; she had thoroughly agreed with him, but so far nothing had
occurred to give any ground for the belief that their hopes would be
fulfilled.

Till within the last year Millicent had been little more than a child;
she had looked up to Mark as she might have done to a big brother, as
something most admirable, as one whose dictum was law. During the last
year there had been some slight change, but more, perhaps, on Mark's
part than on hers. He had consulted her wishes more, had asked instead
of ordered, and had begun to treat her as if conscious that she was fast
growing up into womanhood.

Millicent herself scarcely seemed to have noticed this change. She was
little more inclined to assert herself than before, but was ready to
accompany him whenever he wished her to do so, or to see him go away
without complaint, when it so pleased him; but the last week had made a
rapid change in their position. Millicent had sprung almost at a bound
into a young woman. She had come to think and resolve for herself; she
was becoming wayward and fanciful; she no longer deferred to Mark's
opinion, but held her own, and was capable of being vexed at his
decisions. At any rate, her relations with Mark had changed rapidly, and
Mrs. Cunningham considered this little outburst of pettishness to be a
good omen for her hopes, and very much better than if they had continued
on their old footing of affectionate cousins.

Mark went back again to the lawyer's, and had a long talk with Mr.
Prendergast over the lost treasure. The old lawyer scoffed at the idea
that there could be any danger associated with the bracelet.

"Men in India, I suppose, get fanciful," he said, "and imbibe some of
the native superstitions. The soldier who got them from the man who
stole them was stabbed. He might have been stabbed for a thousand
reasons, but he had the bracelet on his mind. He was forever hiding it
and digging it up, and fancying that someone was on his track, and he
put down the attack as being made by someone connected with it. His
manner