ve your child was the
Marguerite Chuckingham that died," added Mrs. Wittleworth.

"This matter is too ridiculous to take up my time for a moment. I am
ready to abide the decision of the court," continued the banker, taking
his hat and moving towards the door. "I hope you are equally ready to
do so, Ellen."

"I wish to do only what is right," replied she. "Will you see my
husband?"

"No; I will not," answered Mr. Checkynshaw. "If he wished to see me
before he commenced this suit, it would have been proper for him to do
so. I shall not run after him."

"And he will not run after you," interposed Fitz. "Justice and
humanity--"

"Be still, Fitz."

"We shall retain Choate in this case. Me and Choate have talked the
matter over, and--"

Mr. Checkynshaw bowed stiffly, and left the room before Fitz had time
to say what terrible things "me and Choate" intended to do. The banker
was evidently in the most uncomfortable frame of mind. He was nervous
and uneasy. His step in the street was quick and sharp, as he walked to
Phillimore Court. He did not expect to find Andre there, and he did
not. But Maggie was a remarkably intelligent girl, open and truthful,
and she would be less likely to veil any designs from him than one who
had seen more of the world.

The banker tried to think what motive the barber could have for
arraying himself against one who had done so much for him--one who had
voluntarily paid his family the reward of five hundred dollars. It was
possible that the Wittleworths had been at work upon Andre; that they
had induced him to give evidence in support of their assertion that
Marguerite was dead. Mr. Checkynshaw was a shrewd and deep man, in his
own estimation, and he was confident, if any such scheme had been
devised, he could fathom it. He rather preferred, therefore, to see the
members of the family separately, and Maggie was the best one to begin
with.

Mr. Checkynshaw was admitted to the parlor of the barber's home, and
Maggie was the only person in the house with him; for Leo was at
school, still determined, make or break, to obtain the medal. The fair
girl blushed when she recognized the visitor, and, having heard that
the Wittleworths had instituted the suit, she trembled with fear; for
she suspected that the great man's coming related to that event.

"Maggie, I am sorry you and your father have been giving bad counsels
to those Wittleworths," the banker began, in solemn tones, but
apparently m