with Mr.
Crozier on business, if he is not too much occupied?"

"What business?"

"I am acting for Messrs. Bradley, Willingden, Baxter, & Simmons."

The cloud darkened on Crozier's face. His lips tightened, his face
hardened. "I will see you in a moment--wait outside, please," he added,
as Burlingame made as though to step inside. "Wait at the gate," he
added quietly, but with undisguised contempt.

The moment of moments for Mona and himself had passed. All the
bitterness of defeat was on him again. All the humiliation of undeserved
failure to accomplish what had been the dear desire of five years bore
down his spirit now. Suddenly he had a suspicion that his wife had
received information of his whereabouts from this very man, Burlingame.
Had not the Young Doctor said that Burlingame had written to lawyers
in the old land to get information concerning him? Was it not more than
likely that he had given his wife the knowledge which had brought her
here?

When Burlingame had disappeared he turned to Mona. "Who told you I was
here? Who wrote to you?" he asked darkly. The light had died away from
his face. It was ascetic in its lonely gravity now.

"Your doctor cabled to Castlegarry and Miss Tynan wrote to me."

A faint flush spread over Crozier's face. "How did Miss Tynan know where
to write?"

Mona had told the truth at once because she felt it was the only way.
Now, however, she was in a position where she must either tell him that
Kitty had opened that still sealed letter from herself to him which he
had carried all these years, or else tell him an untruth. She had no
right to tell him what Kitty had confided to her. There was no other way
save to lie.

"How should I know? It was enough for me to get her letter," she
replied.

"At Castlegarry?"

What was there to do? She must keep faith with Kitty, who had given her
this sight of her husband again.

"Forwarded from Lammis," she said. "It reached me before the doctor's
cable."

So it was Kitty--Kitty Tynan-who had brought his wife to this new home
from which he had been trying so hard to get back to the old home.
Kitty, the angel of the house.

"You wrote me a letter which drove me from home," he said heavily.

"No--no--no," she protested. "It was not that. I know it was not that.
It was my money--it was that which drove you away. You have just said
so."

"You wrote me a hateful letter," he persisted. "You didn't want to see
me. You sent it to me by