king about, so intimately did it deal with the murder of Pine,
the threats of Silver, and the misery occasioned by the sacrifice of
Agnes to the family fetish. It was in the young man's mind to leave
England forthwith and begin a new life, unhampered by former troubles
and present grievances. But Agnes required help and could not be left to
struggle unaided, so Lambert silently vowed again, as he had vowed
before, to stand by her to the end. Yet so far he was unable to see what
the end would be.

While he thus contemplated the unpleasantness of life he became aware
that the front door bell was ringing, and he heard Mrs. Tribb hurrying
along the passage. So thin were the walls, and so near the door that he
heard also the housekeeper's effusive welcome, which was cut short by a
gasp of surprise. Lambert idly wondered what caused the little woman's
astonishment, but speedily learned when Agnes appeared in the room. With
rare discretion Mrs. Tribb ushered in the visitor and then fled to the
kitchen to wonder why the widow had discarded her mourning. "And him
only planted six months, as you might say," murmured the puzzled woman.
"Whatever will Master Noel say to such goings on?"

Master Noel said nothing, because he was too astonished to speak, and
Agnes, seeing his surprise, and guessing its cause, waited, somewhat
defiantly, for him to make an observation. She was dressed in a gray
silk frock, with a hat and gloves, and shoes to match, and drew off a
fur-lined cloak of maroon-colored velvet, when she entered the room. Her
face was somewhat pale and her eyes looked unnaturally large, but she
had a resolute expression about her mouth, which showed that she had
made up her mind. Lambert, swift, from long association, to read her
moods, wondered what conclusion she had arrived at, and proceeded to
inquire.

"Whatever is the meaning of this?" he demanded, considerably startled.

"This dress?"

"Of course. Where is your widow's cap and--"

"In the fire, and there they can remain until they are burned to ashes."

Lambert stared harder than ever. "What does it mean?" he asked again.

"It means," said Agnes, replying very directly, "that the victim is no
longer decked out for the sacrifice. It means, that as Hubert insulted
me by his will, I no longer intend to consider his memory."

"But, Agnes, you respected him. You always said that you did?"

"Quite so, until his will was read. Then when I found that his mean
jealou