essness, or a dozen things, and forgotten it next day. A letter's
the idlest thing on earth. There's no reason for your considering it a
minute."

"I am bound to consider it," said Electra. "There it is, in black and
white. I shall make over the place to grandmother."

"Well!" Peter felt like whistling, and then unpursed his lips because,
according to Electra, whistling was not polite. He had no restrictions
relative to her giving away her property; but he felt very seriously
that she must not be allowed to indulge herself in any form of insanity,
however picturesque. A detail occurred to him, and he said quickly, with
a look at her,--

"But Electra, you and Tom inherited this place together."

She knew what was coming and her color deepened. Again Rose had stepped
between them, and Electra felt herself back in their old atmosphere of
constraint.

"I have inherited it from Tom," she rejoined.

"You ignore his wife?"

Electra was silent for a long time. It was a hard struggle. But she
spoke at last and in a tone which made the difficulty of speech
apparent.

"Since Mr. MacLeod has been here--"

"Well?"

"I must recognize her as his daughter."

"Didn't you believe that, Electra? Not even that?"

"I am forced to believe it now. When he comes back, I shall ask him to
corroborate her story. If he does--I shall be obliged to--give her what
is just."

"Not otherwise, Electra? You believe him."

"I believe him implicitly." Her tone rang out in an astonishing
assurance. She might have been pledging fealty to some adored intimate.

"You believe him. You would not believe me?"

She hedged a little here. "You gave me no proof--only the woman's word."

"Would you believe him without proof?"

She was silent, yet she knew she must.

"But," she said, with the haste of finishing an unwelcome subject, "I
shall settle the matter as soon as possible after he comes back. If he
tells me his daughter was married to my brother, she shall be paid every
cent she is entitled to. But she shall not share this house--not an inch
of it."

"Why not?"

Electra seemed to be carried on by a wave. Hurt pride found its
voice,--all the revulsion she had felt in these days of Peter's divided
allegiance.

"The house is ours. It belongs to the family. I shall make it over to
grandmother, but not to that girl. She shall never own a timber in it."

Peter spoke involuntarily, with an unpremeditated wonder:--

"What makes you hate