oked at him with grave wonder, and then said with her old
directness: "But if I had been told such a secret affecting you, I
should have told you." She stopped suddenly, seeing his eyes fixed on
her, and dropped her own lids with a slight color. "I mean," she said
hesitatingly, "of course you have acted nobly, generously, kindly,
wisely--but I hate secrets! Oh, why cannot one be always frank?"

A wild idea seized Randolph. "But I have another secret--you have not
guessed--and I have not dared to tell you. Do you wish me to be frank
now?"

"Why not?" she said simply, but she did not look up.

Then he told her! But, strangest of all, in spite of his fears and
convictions, it flowed easily and naturally as a part of his other
secret, with an eloquence he had not dreamed of before. But when he told
her of his late position and his prospects, she raised her eyes to his
for the first time, yet without withdrawing her hand from his, and said
reproachfully,--

"Yet but for THAT you would never have told me."

"How could I?" he returned eagerly. "For but for THAT how could I help
you to carry out YOUR trust? How could I devote myself to your plans,
and enable you to carry them out without touching a dollar of that
inheritance which you believe to be wrongfully yours?"

Then, with his old boyish enthusiasm, he sketched a glowing picture of
their future: how they would keep the Dornton property intact until the
captain was found and communicated with; and how they would cautiously
collect all the information accessible to find him until such time
as Randolph's fortunes would enable them both to go on a voyage of
discovery after him. And in the midst of this prophetic forecast, which
brought them so closely together that she was enabled to examine his
watch chain, she said,--

"I see you have kept Cousin Jack's ring. Did he ever see it?"

"He told me he had given it to you as his little sweetheart, and that
he"--

There was a singular pause here.

"He never did THAT--at least, not in that way!" said Sybil Eversleigh.

And, strangely enough, the optimistic Randolph's prophecies came true.
He was married a month later to Sibyl Eversleigh, Mr. Dingwall giving
away the bride. He and his wife were able to keep their trust in regard
to the property, for, without investing a dollar of it in the bank,
the mere reputation of his wife's wealth brought him a flood of other
investors and a confidence which at once secured his su