acquired any, and were willing to "take a chance."

And, also, old friends of Mrs. Larch observed that the smile did not
long linger on her face. And that behind the laughter in her eyes was
the shadow of a skeleton at the feast. Then came the legal separation
and the parting. Mrs. Larch, resuming, her maiden name, it was
announced, had gone to a quiet place to rest.

To her few intimates it was known that Cynthia had gone to the little
village of Pompey, where her father owned a small summer home. As for
Larch, he met the various questions fired at him by his friends and
others at the Homestead, as well as he was able. It was all due to a
misunderstanding, he said.

That was before the whole story of his cruel treatment of his wife
became known. For the papers of her testimony had been sealed, and it
was only by a sharp trick on the part of Daley that he got access to
them. Incidentally the vice chancelor was furious when it became known
that the documents had been inspected by a reporter, but then it was
too late.

The story spread over half the front page of the _Times_, and it was
noted that the evening the paper came out a dinner which was to have
been given by the Lawyers' Club at the Homestead was unexpectedly
postponed.

"It wouldn't do, you know, after that story came out, for me and the
vice chancellor who sat in the case, as well as other judges and
members of the bar, to be seen there," Kenneth explained to the colonel.

Slowly and gradually, but none the less surely, a change came over the
Homestead. The gathering of congenial spirits, who knew they would be
undisturbed by a roistering element, grew less frequent in the grill
and Tudor rooms. And it was whispered about:

"Larch is lushing!"

Meanwhile Colonel Ashley was a very busy man, and to no one did he tell
very much about his activities. He saw Darcy frequently at the jail,
and to that young man's pleadings that something be done, always
returned the answer:

"Don't worry! It will come out all right!"

"But Amy--and the disgrace?"

"She doesn't consider herself disgraced, and you shouldn't. The best
of police headquarters or prosecutor's detectives make mistakes. I'm
going to rectify them. But it will take time."

"Do you know who killed my cousin?"

"I think I do."

"Then for the love of--"

"I can't tell you yet, Darcy. All in good time. I've got to be sure
of my ground before I make too many moves. Oh, I know it