his was Mrs. Larch's cross. It is a
family heirloom I believe, though many suppose her husband gave it to
her for a wedding present. That is not so, however. I know Cynthia
had the cross before she was married."

"You call her Cynthia?"

"I have known her since we were both children."

"I see. Pray go on."

"In fact we were sweethearts," continued Grafton, "and were engaged.
But the match was broken off by her father. I was only a struggling
clerk then, and never dreamed I would get on as I have. Nor did she, I
fancy, though she was willing to take me as I was. But her folks made
trouble. They brought such pressure to bear on her that she gave in
and married Larch, who was and is wealthy, but whose social position
was beneath hers.

"Don't think I am telling you this out of mere jealousy," Aaron Grafton
went on, and his manner was earnest. "I loved her deeply and
sincerely. I do yet, but in a way that is perfectly right. I have not
told her so--but--" He was silent a moment.

"I went away after she threw me over," he resumed. "I couldn't stand
it to be near her and see her going out--with him. But I came back.
Though the old wound still hurt, I tried not to let her see. We became
friends again--in fact we had never ceased to be friends.

"Perhaps I have acted foolishly, but, of late, I have seen her quite
often. I began to feel that her married life was not happy. I took
pains to enquire, and learned that it was not. I tried to make her a
little happier by talking to her. Once or twice she met me and we
walked together in the woods."

The colonel looked sharply at his caller.

"Oh, for God's sake don't put any wrong construction on it! I'd give
my very life to make her happy, and do you think I'd--"

"I don't doubt you for a moment, sir!"

"Thank you," said Mr. Grafton. "It is good to know that there is still
some truth and honor in the world and that a man and woman can be
friends though the circumstances seem peculiar."

He paused a moment to overcome his emotion and resumed:

"Well, Cynthia and I are friends--good friends. It was to talk over
what course was best for her to pursue under certain circumstances that
she and I walked out together. We went in secret, for there are
gossiping and wagging tongues in Colchester as elsewhere, and if I, the
leading merchant in the town, was seen to be alone with pretty Cynthia
Larch, whose husband was a friend of judges and politicians who