ning wore on, till finally
the last train had come and gone. There was nothing to do but go back to
the house, and face the _other_ matter. And he dreaded it! Oh, how he
dreaded it!

He could not bear the thought of Kathrien's eyes that had first doubted,
then accused, then condemned him. All the while he had waited at the
hotel, he had remembered those eyes. If he had not loved her sincerely
the situation would have been comparatively easy for him; he could
simply have cleared out--spent the rest of his days in Europe, if
necessary, so that he might never see or hear of any one connected with
Grimm Manor again in all his life.

But Kathrien! Who could have been near her and _ever_ forget her? The
turn of her head, the absolute sweetness of her--the sunshine she
radiated, made it utterly impossible for one to think of forgetting--of
living all one's long life without her. Frederik threw away his
cigarette and lighted another as he stood outside the windows of the
house and looked in.

Oom Peter was there--how could he go in then? Common sense told him that
he had been smoking too much and his nerves had gone bad--that he had
become an old woman with his fears and tremblings; yet--he knew Oom
Peter was there--Well (he shrugged his shoulders), about all the harm
that could be done _had_ been done, and he had the money now, anyway, so
he might as well go in and find out the present state of affairs. There
might be, there ought to be, some word from Hicks by this time. With
tight-shut lips, he walked quickly up the "stoop" steps and into the
house.

As he came into the living-room he glanced at the doctor, who, with
bulky form crouched over the little table, was still busily writing and
heard nothing.

Frederik half-unconsciously looked toward Kathrien's room, then removed
his silk hat with its mourning band, and his black gloves, and laid them
with his cane on the hall table.

Then he turned toward Dr. McPherson.

"Good-evening, Doctor," he said shortly. "Any of them come to their
senses yet?"

There was a defiant ring in the last sentence, though he knew in his
heart that his cause was lost.

The doctor looked up long enough to say:

"Oh, Frederik, you're back again, are you?" then went on with his
writing.

Frederik glanced furtively around the shadowy room, and then lighted
some candles in an effort to make the place more cheerful. Suddenly his
eye was riveted on the telegram resting conspicuously on his