at this kind of
life was becoming more intolerable every hour.

In order to avoid his caresses, Laura had leaned forward. Her hands
clasped between her knees, she gazed straight past him, with a cold,
impassive expression. Brockton looked at her silently for a moment. The
man was really fond of her; he wanted to try and comfort her, but of
late a wall seemed to have risen between them. He realized now that she
had slipped away from the old environment and conditions. He had
brought her back, but he had regained none of her affection. With all
his money, their old _camaraderie_ was gone forever. These and other
thoughts hurt him as such things always hurt a selfish, egotistical
man, inclining him to be brutal and inconsiderate.

As they both remained there in silence, the front door bell rang, first
gently and then more violently. Brockton went to open. Before he could
reach it there was another ring. The caller, whoever it was, seemed in
a good deal of a hurry.

"D----n that bell!" exclaimed the broker.

He opened the parlor door and passed out into the private hall, so he
could open the door leading into the public corridor. Laura remained
seated where she was, immovable and impassive, with the same cold, hard
expression on her face. When, she pondered, would she be able to summon
up courage enough to tell Brockton the truth--that she detested him and
his set and loathed herself? Why had he mentioned John just now? Could
he have read her thoughts and guessed of whom she had been thinking?

Presently the outer door slammed loudly, and Brockton re-entered the
room, holding a telegram in his hand.

"A wire," he said briefly.

Laura started forward.

"For me?" she exclaimed.

"Yes."

She looked surprised.

"From whom, I wonder? Perhaps Elfie, with a luncheon engagement."

"I don't know," he said indifferently, handing her the closed yellow
envelope.

As she broke it open and hastily read the contents, he watched her face
closely. She gasped involuntarily as she caught sight of the signature,
but by a great effort managed to control herself. Outwardly calm and
self-possessed, she silently read the message, which was dated Buffalo,
the night before, and ran as follows:

"MY OWN DARLING:

"I have been through the shadow of the valley, but have won out.
To-day I am rich. Isn't it glorious? I am the happiest man on
earth. I shall be in New York before noon to-morrow. I am coming to
marry