love
to her, instead of spying on her in the company of a detective.

For that, he was forced to conclude, was what he had been brought for.
Spaulding had mentioned her name casually, when telling him that he must
be on hand to nab the "party" who was at the bottom of the whole trouble;
but Spaulding hardly could have watched the person who was blackmailing
without including her in his surveillance. He wished now that he had left
that part of the mystery to take care of itself, trusting to his
mother-in-law's departure to relieve the situation. No doubt she would
have told him the truth herself rather than leave her daughter to the
mercy of the men who knew her secret.

But he was still far from suspecting the worst of the truth.

There were a number of men in fancy dominoes; he and Spaulding crossed
the lawn in front of the house unchallenged and, passing under the
frowning archway, entered the first of the courts.

The oblong sunken pool was banked with myrtle, and above, as well as in
the great inner court with the fountain, there were narrow arcaded
windows with fluttering silken curtains. Mrs. Thornton had too satiric a
sense of humor to have had the famous arabesques of the Alhambra
reproduced any more than the massive coats-of-arms above the arches, but
the walls were delicately colored, the delicate columns looked like old
ivory, and the greatest of the local architects had been entirely
successful in combining the massiveness of the warrior stronghold with
the airy lightness and spaciousness of the pleasure house.

The bedrooms, Ruyler told Spaulding, were all as modern as they were
luxurious, and the library, living-rooms, and dining-room, were in the
best American style. Fordy had rebelled at too much "Spanish atmosphere,"
his blood being straight Anglo-Saxon, and Mrs. Thornton always knew when
to yield. Nevertheless, Flora Thornton had built the proper setting for
her barbaric beauty, and, possibly, spirit.

People were sitting about the courts on piles of colored silken cushions,
those that had got themselves up in Eastern costumes having drifted
naturally to the suitable surroundings; for, after all, the Moors had
been Mohammedans.

"Don't let's hang round here," said the detective, "and don't stand
holding yourself like a ramrod--like that gent out there with the ruff
that must be taking the skin off his chin. I kinder thought I'd like to
see the whole show, but we'd best go now and wait for our l