don't wish to know. It was a mistake to refer
to it. I should simply have forgot what I heard in Annapolis--I'll
forget now, if you will permit."

"By no means, Miss Carrington. You can't forget, if you would--and I
would not have you, if you could. Moreover, I inherited it along with
Clarendon, and, as you were my guide to the place, it's no more than
right that you should know. I think I shall confide in you--no use to
protest, it's got to come!" he added.

"You are determined?--Very well, then, come over to the couch in the
corner, where we can sit close and you can whisper."

He arose, with alacrity. She put out her hand and led him--and he
suffered himself to be led.

"Now!" when they were seated, "you may begin. Once upon a time----" and
laughed, softly. "I'll take this, if you've no immediate use for it,"
she said, and released her hand from his.

"For the moment," he said. "I shall want it back, presently, however."

"Do you, by any chance, get all you want?" she inquired.

"Alas! no! Else I would have kept what I already had."

She put her hands behind her, and faced around.

"Begin, sir!" she said. "Begin! and try to be serious."

"Well,--once upon a time----" Then he stopped. "I'll go over to the
house and get the letter--it will tell you much better than I can. You
will wait here, _right here_, until I return?"

She looked at him, with a tantalizing smile.

"Won't it be enough, if I am here _when_ you return?" she asked.

When he came out on the piazza the rain had ceased, the clouds were
gone, the temperature had fallen, and the stars were shining brightly
in a winter sky.

He strode quickly down the walk to the street and crossed it diagonally
to his own gates. As he passed under the light, which hung near the
entrance, a man walked from the shadow of the Clarendon grounds and
accosted him.

"Mr. Croyden, I believe?" he said.

Croyden halted, abruptly, just out of distance.

"Croyden is my name?" he replied, interrogatingly.

"With your permission, I will accompany you to your house--to which I
assume you are bound--for a few moments' private conversation."

"Concerning what?" Croyden demanded.

"Concerning a matter of business."

"My business or yours?"

"Both!" said the man, with a smile.

Croyden eyed him suspiciously. He was about thirty years of age, tall
and slender, was well dressed, in dark clothes, a light weight
top-coat, and a derby hat. His face was ordinary, howeve