rsely.

She glanced at Wingrave questioningly. His expression was ominous, and
the light faded from her own face. While she hesitated, Wingrave spoke.

"I imagine," he said, "that the fact is fairly obvious. What have you to
say about it?"

"A good deal," Aynesworth answered passionately. "Juliet, please go
away. I must speak to your guardian--alone!"

Again she looked at Wingrave. He pointed to the house.

"I think," he said, "that you had better go."

She hesitated. Something of the impending storm was already manifest.
Aynesworth turned suddenly towards her.

"You shall not enter that house again, Juliet," he declared. "Stay in
the gardens there, and presently you shall know why."

THE AWAKENING

Wingrave had risen to his feet. He was perfectly calm, but there was a
look on his face which Juliet had never seen there before. Instinctively
she drew a little away, and Aynesworth took his place between them.

"Are you mad, Aynesworth?" Wingrave asked coolly.

"Not now," Aynesworth answered. "I have been mad to stay with you for
four years, to look on, however passively, at all the evil you have
done. I've had enough of it now, and of you! I came here to tell you
so."

"A letter," Wingrave answered, "would have been equally efficacious.
However, since you have told me--"

"I'll go when I'm ready," Aynesworth answered, "and I've more to say.
When I first entered your service and you told me what your outlook upon
life was, I never dreamed but that the years would make a man of you
again, I never believed that you could be such a brute as to carry out
your threats. I saw you do your best to corrupt a poor, silly little
woman, who only escaped ruin by a miracle; I saw you deal out what might
have been irretrievable disaster to a young man just starting in life.
Since your return to London, you have done as little good, and as much
harm, with your millions as any man could."

Wingrave was beginning to look bored.

"This is getting," he remarked, "a little like melodrama. I have no
objection to being abused, even in my own garden, but there are limits
to my patience. Come to the point, if you have one."

"Willingly," Aynesworth answered. "I want you to understand this. I have
never tried to interfere in any of your malicious schemes, although I
am ashamed to think I have watched them without protest. But this one
is different. If you have harmed, if you should ever dare to harm this
child, as sure as