of the excitement, or, more probably, because of it, Lucile
was very tired and a finicky audience didn't appeal to her. She wanted to
tell her story her own way.

"Go ahead, Lucy; forgive us!" said Jessie, all compunction at once.
"You've made us so excited we can't wait, that's all."

"Yes, we promise not to interrupt again," added Evelyn.

"Oh, go ahead and tell your story, Lucy; cut out the sob stuff!" This
from an unsympathetic brother, who should have withered next minute
beneath the scathing searchlight of scorn turned his way.

Then Lucile told her story, from the minute she left the girls to the
present time. During the recital they forgot more than once their promise
not to interrupt, but Lucile, heart and soul in her story, never noticed
them.

Mr. Payton was as much interested as the young folks, for he had
entertained a sincere liking for the despondent young Frenchman.

When Lucile, flushed and breathless, finished the recital and leaned back
against the cushions, the girls and Phil overwhelmed her with a flood of
questions.

"So that was really the chateau old Charloix told us about. Why didn't
you tell us while we were there, so we could have had a good look at the
place?" Phil objected. "Let's go back, Dad," he added, eagerly. "It
wouldn't take very long and it's a crime not to give the place the once
over now that we have the chance."

"Oh, Phil, we can't go back now," wailed his sister. "I'm a perfect
mess----"

"Of course we can't; there isn't time, anyway," said Jessie, sweeping the
suggestion aside with a _sang-froid_ that aggravated Phil. "The thing I'm
most interested in now is that will and the letters her father left her.
Oh, it's too wonderful!"

"And to think," said Evelyn, with shining eyes, "to think that all the
time we were worrying about you and feeling sure you were lost, you were
having the time of your life! Oh, if I'd only had the nerve to follow
you!"

"Yes, just think of that lost opportunity," wailed Jessie. "Such a chance
will never come again, never. But, Lucile, dear, do tell us what Jeanette
looked like," she begged, for the fiftieth time at least.

Before she could reply, Mr. Payton said, slowly, "It is a very serious, a
very delicate thing, to interfere in the lives of two people, Lucile. In
this instance the end justifies the means, but it might easily have
turned out otherwise. This isn't a lecture, dear," he added, patting the
brown head tenderly, "simply a