preparing herself with great enthusiasm.

Though no words were exchanged between Mr. Underwood and Walcott, the
latter became conscious of the other's growing disfavor, and the
conviction gradually forced itself upon him that all hope of gaining his
partner's daughter in marriage was futile. For Kate Underwood he cared
little, except as a means of securing a hold upon her father's wealth.
As he found himself compelled to abandon this scheme and saw the prize
he had thus hoped to gain slipping farther and farther from his grasp,
his rage made him desperate, and he determined to gain all or lose all
in one mad venture. To make ready for this would require weeks, perhaps
months, but he set about his preparations with method and deliberation.
Either the boldness of his plan or his absorption in the expected
outcome made him negligent of details, however, and slowly, but surely,
Mr. Underwood gathered the proofs of his guilt with which he intended to
confront him when the opportune moment arrived. But even yet he did not
dream the extent of his partner's frauds or the villany of which he was
capable; he therefore took no one into his confidence and sought no
assistance.

Kate was quick to observe the change in Walcott's manner and to note the
malignity lurking in the half-closed eyes whenever they encountered her
own or her father's gaze, and, while saying nothing to excite or worry
the latter, redoubled her vigilance, seldom leaving him alone.

Affairs had reached this state when, with the early spring days, Mr.
Britton returned from the East and stopped for a brief visit at The
Pines. In a few days he divined enough of the situation to lead him to
suspect that danger of some kind threatened his old friend. A hint from
Kate confirmed his suspicion, and he resolved to prolong his stay and
await developments.

One afternoon soon after his arrival Kate, returning from a walk, while
passing up the driveway met a woman coming from The Pines. The latter
was tall, dressed in black, and closely veiled,--a stranger,--yet
something in her appearance seemed familiar. Suddenly Kate recalled the
"Senora" who sent the summons to Walcott on that day set for their
marriage, more than a year before. Though she had caught only a brief
glimpse of the black-robed and veiled figure within the carriage, she
remembered a peculiarly graceful poise of the head as she had leaned
forward for a final word with Walcott, and by that she identified t