to feel free to spend
without limit whatever you may find helpful. We have more than ample
funds. Unfortunately I have on hand only a little money, but as soon
as I can get to my bank--"

"I have enough." He smiled as a new meaning to the phrase came to him.
"More than enough."

He glanced at the clock. Over half of his first day already gone. He
heard the crunching wheels of the taxicab on the graveled road outside.
Hurrying into the hall he took one of Arsdale's hats--he had lost his
own in the machine--and slipped into his overcoat. Still he paused,
curiously reluctant to leave her. He did not feel that there was very
much waiting for him outside, and here--he would have been content to
live his week in this old library. He had glimpsed a dozen volumes
that he would have enjoyed handling. He would like to spread them out
upon his knee before the fire and read to her at random from them.
Yes, she must be there to complete the library. He was getting loose
again in his thoughts.

She was looking at him anxiously.

"I think we shall find him," he said confidently. "At any rate I shall
come back in the morning and report."

"This seems such an imposition--" she faltered.

"Please don't look at it in that light," he pleaded earnestly. "I feel
as though I were doing this for an old friend."

"You are kind to consider it so."

"You see we have been in the inner woods together."

She smiled courageously.

"Good night. I wish you were better guarded here," he added.

He held out his hand quite frankly. She put her own within it for a
moment. He grew dizzy at the mere touch of it. It was as though his
Lady of the Mountains had suddenly become a living, tangible reality.
The light touch of her fingers was as wine to him. They made the task
before him seem an easy one. They made it a privilege. She thought
that he was making a sacrifice in doing this for her when she was
granting him the boon of returning upon the morrow.

"Good night," he said again.

He turned abruptly and opening the door stepped out into the cab
without daring to look back.

CHAPTER VII

_The Arsdales_

Miss Arsdale hurried upstairs to where in a rear room Marie, with a
candle burning beside her, lay in bed done up like a mummy.

"Par Di', Mam'selle Elaine," exclaimed the old housekeeper, her eyes
growing brighter at sight of her. "I had a dream about a black horse.
Is anything wrong with you?"

"Nothing. A