to find
that poor boy. They think he must hold the clue."

"I think I could find it all out if I tried," said Janet. "Had your
father any enemies?"

Richmond shook her head.

"Any one to whom he owed money?"

Richmond started, and her thoughts reverted to Poynter.

"No, no, no--impossible! Let it rest, dear. I have thought over it,
till it nearly drives me mad!" she cried excitedly.

"It is very strange;" continued Janet musingly. "I don't like to let it
rest, and there is our trouble, too. Rich dear, has it ever occurred to
you that it must have been the same night when poor Mark was found
wandering about?"

"Yes, dear. I have calculated it out from what the hospital sister told
me. It was the same night."

Rich looked at her wonderingly.

"It was, dear," continued Janet. "While you had that horror at home, I
was sleeping here comfortably, and poor Mark was wandering about the
cruel streets half wild."

Rich made a gesture to her friend to be silent, and Janet passed her arm
about her waist, to lead her up-stairs, but with the full determination
to try and make some investigation. For though there were times when
the thought of her brother having brought home a bag of diamonds seemed
mythical, and the birth of his diseased imagination--especially as he
never named them now--at other times visions of comparative wealth had
come to her, in the midst of which she seemed to see herself with
Hendon, and her old companion and her brother happily looking on.

Mark was seated gazing moodily at the fire as Richmond entered with his
sister, and he rose to take her hands, and lead her to a chair.

But somehow both seemed constrained and troubled by thoughts which they
kept from each other.

"I know," said Janet to herself, "it's that dreadful money which is
keeping them apart, and if I don't do something, Mark will be going off
again to seek his fortune, and it is like condemning poor Rich and
himself to a life of misery and waiting."

She sat working, but furtively watching the others all the while.

"This poverty is killing us all," she said to herself at last, "and I
will speak. It may be true, and he shall do something to find out."

"Mark dear," she said aloud, "I have something to say."

"Indeed! Well, what is it?"

"I've come to the conclusion that, now you are better, you ought to
speak out like a man, and--"

"Stop!" he said hoarsely.

"No, Mark, I shall not stop," cried Janet decid