s blue-black hair unbound, and falling over her
shoulders, which gleamed pink through the filmy thinness of her robe.

"I wonder if I shall be shocked when I read them?" she mused.

That was what Viola had been living in continual fear of since her
father's death--that some disclosure would shock her--that she might
come upon some phase of his past life which would not bear the full
light of day. For Horace Carwell had not stinted himself of the
pleasures of life as he saw them. He had eaten and drunk and he had made
merry. And he was a gregarious man--one who did not like to take his
pleasures alone.

And so Viola was afraid.

The letters were held together with an elastic band, and this gave some
hope.

"If they were from a woman, he wouldn't have used a rubber band on
them," reasoned Viola. "He was too sentimental for that. They can't be
mother's letters--they were in another compartment. I wonder--"

Viola had done much wondering since her mother's death, and considerable
of it had been due to the life her father led. That he would marry again
she doubted, but he was fond of the society of the men, and particularly
the women of their own set, and some sets with which Viola preferred to
have nothing to do.

And if Mr. Carwell had no intentions of marrying again, then his
interest in women--

But here Viola ceased wondering.

With a more resolute air she reached forth hand to the bundle of letters
and took one out. There was distinct relief in her manner as she quickly
turned to the signature and read: "Gerry Poland."

And then, quickly, she ascertained that all the letters comprised
correspondence between her father and the yacht club captain.

"But why did he hide these letters away?" mused Viola. "They seem to
be about business, as the others were--the others showing that Captain
Poland perhaps saved my father from financial ruin. Why should they be
under the false bottom of the drawer?"

She could not answer that question.

"I must read them all," she murmured, and she went through the entire
correspondence. There were several letters, sharp in tone, from both
men, and the subject was as Greek to Viola. But there was one note from
the captain to her father that brought a more vivid color to her dark
cheeks, for Captain Poland had written:

"You care little for what I have done for you, otherwise you would not
so oppose my attentions to your daughter. They are most honorable, as
you well know, ye