No; but for all that----" began Franklin, only to break off. "Where has
she gone?" he demanded angrily.

"I don't know. She had some money, and took a small black bag with her.
She said when she got settled she would write here and let me know where
she was, on condition that I did not tell you."

"She has every reason to. Poor, miserable girl! to be an outcast, and
now to leave her only refuge," he sighed and shook his head. Giles all
the time had been watching Portia, whose face bore an expression of
obstinacy worthy of a mule. "Did this scheme for Anne's departure
include the masquerade you have indulged in?"

"It is my own idea," she retorted defiantly. "Anne wished to get away
without my father knowing, so I stopped in her room and pretended to be
Anne. The servants were deceived, as I knew exactly how to imitate her
voice. I pulled down the blind, so that no one should see who I was.
Only you could have guessed the truth."

"How is that?"

"Because you love her."

Giles thought this a strange speech for the heavy-looking girl to make.
"Is that an original remark on your part?" he asked.

"No," she confessed candidly; "I suggested to Anne that I should pass
myself off as her, and so give her a longer time to get away. She said
that I might deceive the servants and my father, but that I could never
deceive you, because you loved her. But I had a good try," continued
Portia, nodding her red head triumphantly. "When my father spoke your
name at the door I thought I would try."

"Well, you have done so only to fail," responded Ware coolly. "For the
moment I was deceived, but you forgot how to manage your voice, and,
moreover, your explanation was too elaborate. But how is it you dare to
confess, as Anne, that she killed the girl?"

"Anne did kill Daisy Kent!"

"She did not."

"Yes, she did. She confessed as much to father last night, and to me
also. She asked me to tell you so, that you might forget all about her.
I was going over to your place this very day to tell, but when father
brought you in I thought I would pretend to be Anne and tell you in that
way."

"Anne would have written, and----"

"No, she wouldn't," said Portia, eagerly. "She began to write a letter
saying that she was guilty, but afterwards she thought it might fall
into the hands of the police, and tore it up. She told me to let you
know by word of mouth. All she asks of you is that you will forget that
she ever existed."

"Let her