our happiness, and I adore him for it. I certainly put
love before money, for I would marry you if we had to play an organ in
the streets or sing sentimental ditties out of tune, but it will be like
a fairy tale to live in the Court--with you!"

"It will, indeed! I don't feel indifferent to fortune any longer now
that it has brought us together. When the Will was read aloud
yesterday, I did not know whether I was standing on my head or my heels.
I rushed down to the vicarage, and good little Mrs Thornton cried upon
my neck, literally she did, Mollie!"

Mollie smiled at him with love-lit eyes.

"But oh, Jack, there's something else--Victor? What about him? Was he
terribly disappointed? Did he get nothing?"

"No! not a cent!"

"Did Uncle Bernard leave no word of explanation or good-bye?"

"There was no note, but there was an envelope and an--an enclosure,"
said Jack gravely.

He put his hand in his waistcoat-pocket and drew from his pocket-book an
unmounted photograph.

"Druce opened this in the library after the Will was read, stared at it
for a moment, then threw it in the fire, and dashed out of the room. It
fell on the grate and the lawyer picked it up and gave it to me."

He held out the photograph as he spoke, and Mollie bent eagerly over it.
It was Ruth's missing picture of the library at the Court--one of the
longtime exposures which she had taken on the eventful morning when the
desk had been opened in the squire's absence. The nearer part of the
interior was clear and distinct, but the further half was blurred as if
something had moved while the plate was still exposed, while leaning
over the open desk was a man's figure, dim and blurred indeed, but
recognisable in a flash as that of Victor Druce!

Mollie's face was white to the lips as she raised it to meet Jack's
glance, and he put his arm round her protectingly.

"Yes; I knew you would be shocked! It is easy to see what happened.
After Druce went out, ostensibly for the day, he slunk back unseen, and
entered the library by the window. The blur across the picture shows in
which direction he crossed to the desk. Meantime, Ruth had put her
camera in position, and as the exposure would be a long one in such a
dark room, she had gone away and left it there. Druce would never
notice the little camera perched on a side-table, and when he heard Ruth
returning he, no doubt, hid himself hastily behind the curtains; but he
had remained sufficie