they can be just as unfair to themselves as they
are to others. Besides, haven't you any sense of humour, Mrs. Crozier?
It's as good as a play, this. Just think: after five years of
desertion, and trouble without end, and it all put right by a little
sleight-of-hand. Shall I open it?"

She held the letter up. Mona nodded almost eagerly now, for come of a
subtle, social world far away, she still was no match for the subtlety
of the wilds--or was it the cunning the wild things know?

Kitty left the room, but in a moment afterwards returned with the letter
open. "The kettle on the hob is the friend of the family," she said
gaily. "Here it is all ready for what there is to do. You go and keep
watch for Mr. Crozier," she added to the Young Doctor. "He won't be gone
long, I should think, and we don't want him bursting in on us before
I've got that letter safe back into his desk. If he comes, you keep him
busy for a moment. When we're quite ready I'll come to the front door,
and then you will know it is all right."

"I'm to go while you make up your prescription--all right!" said the
Young Doctor, and with a wave of the hand he left the room.

Instantly Kitty brought a lead pencil and paper. "Now sit down and write
to him, Mrs. Crozier," she said briskly. "Use discretion; don't gush;
slap his face a little for breaking his pledge, and afterwards tell
him that you did at the Derby what you had abused him for doing.
Then explain to him about this four thousand pounds--twenty thousand
dollars--my, what a lot of money, and all got in one day! Tell him that
it was all won by his own cash. It's as easy as can be, and it will be a
certainty now."

So saying, she lit a match. "You--hold this wicked old catfish letter
into the flame, please, Mrs. Crozier, and keep praying all the time,
and please remember that 'our little hands were never made to tear each
other's eyes.'"

Mona's small fingers were trembling as she held the fateful letter
into the flame, and then in silence both watched it burn to a cinder. A
faint, hopeful smile was on Mona's face now.

"What isn't never was to those that never knew," said Kitty briskly, and
pushed a chair up to the table. "Now sit down and write, please."

Mona sat down. Taking up a sheet of notepaper she looked at it
dubiously.

"Oh, what a fool I am!" said Kitty, understanding the look. "And that's
what every criminal does--he forgets something. I forgot the notepaper.
Of course you can