logue of human woes, but wherein is altruism evolved? How many
aeons shall we wait, to behold the leopard and the lamb pasturing
together in peace?

Pondering this problem, as he rode along the public road outside the
boundary of Judge Dent's lawn, Mr. Dunbar caught a glimpse of his
betrothed, sitting behind the hedge of lilacs, and he lifted his hat,
hoping that she would meet him at the entrance; but although she bowed
in recognition, he was forced to open the gate and admit himself.
Throwing the bridle rein over one of the iron spikes of the fence, and
taking off his gloves, he approached the bench.

"Dare I flatter myself, that my queen deigns to meet me half way?"

He took her outstretched hand, and kissed it softly, while his glance
noted every detail of her handsome fawn-colored dress, with its jabot
of creamy lace, and the cluster of crimson carnations in her belt. The
touch of his lips on her fingers, deepened the flush in her cheeks,
and, making room for him beside her, she replied:

"Sit down, and tell me if this dreadful news about General Darrington
be indeed true? I have hoped there might be some mistake, some
exaggeration."

"Some horrors exceed the possibility of verbal exaggeration, and last
night's tragedy is one of that class. General Darrington was most
brutally murdered."

"Poor old gentleman! How incredible it seems that such awful crimes can
be committed in our quiet neighborhood? who could have been so guilty;
and what motive could have prompted such a fiendish act?"

"The one all-powerful evil passion of mankind--greed of gold; lust of
filthy lucre. He was first robbed, then murdered by the thief, to avoid
detection and punishment. There is unmistakable evidence that the
General was chloroformed while asleep; but he must have awakened in
time to discover the robber, with whom he struggled desperately, and by
whom he was struck down. The coroner's inquest developed some startling
facts."

"Has any clue been discovered which would indicate the murderer?"

"A handful of clues."

"Then you have a theory concerning the person who perpetrated this
awful crime?"

"My dear Leo, not a theory, but a conviction; I might almost say an
absolute knowledge."

"Would it be pardonable for me to ask whom you suspect; would it be a
violation of professional etiquette for you to tell me?"

"Certainly, my dearest, you can ask me anything, only--" he paused a
moment; and she put her hand quickly on h