ld she find out without asking Kitty? There was one way.
She remembered that Mr. Gunn had once shown a great deal of interest
to Kitty about the old homestead, and even of old Mr. Lane's woodland
cabin. She would ask HIM. It was a friendly act, for Kitty had not of
late been very kind to him.

The opportunity presented itself at dusk, as Mr. Gunn, somewhat
abstracted, stood apart at the drawing-room window. Marie hoped he had
enjoyed himself while skating; her stupid cold had kept her indoors. She
had amused herself rambling about the old homestead; it was such a queer
place, so full of old nooks and corners and unaccountable spaces. Just
the place, she would think, where old treasures might have been stored.
Eh?

Mr. Gunn had not spoken--he had only coughed. But in the darkness his
eyes were fixed angrily on her face. Without observing it, she went on.
She knew he was interested in the old house; she had heard him talk
to Kitty about it: had Kitty ever said anything about some old secret
hoarding place?

No, certainly not! And she was mistaken, he never was interested in
the house! He could not understand what had put that idea in her head!
Unless it was this ridiculous, shady stranger in the guise of an uncle
whom they had got there. It was like his affectation!

"Oh, dear, no," said Marie, with unmistakable truthfulness, "HE did not
say anything. But," with sudden inconsistent aggression, "is THAT the
way you speak to Kitty of her uncle?"

Really he didn't know--he was joking only, and he was afraid he must
just now ask her to excuse him. He had received letters that made it
possible that he might be called suddenly to New York at any moment.
Marie stared. It was evident that he had proposed to Kitty and been
rejected! But she was no nearer her discovery.

Nor was there the least revelation in the calm, half-bored, yet
good-humored presence of the wicked uncle at dinner. So indifferent
did he seem, not only to his own villainy but even to the loss it had
entailed, that she had a wild impulse to take the ring from her pocket
and display it on her own finger before him then and there. But the
conviction that he would in some way be equal to the occasion prevented
her. The dinner passed off with some constraint, no doubt emanating from
the conscious Kitty and Gunn. Nevertheless, when they had returned to
the drawing-room, Gabriel rubbed his hands expectantly.

"I prevailed on Sylvester this morning to promise to