om father defrauded,
this person who wishes his name kept a secret, but who does such queer
things? Who is he?"

"Caroline, I tell you I cannot answer these questions. He does wish to
remain unknown, as I told you and your brother when we first learned of
him and his claim. If I were to tell you I should break my faith with
him.... You must excuse me; you really must."

"Mr. Sylvester, perhaps you don't need to tell me. Perhaps I can guess.
Isn't he my--"

"Caroline, I cannot--"

"_Isn't he my uncle, Elisha Warren?_"

Sylvester was half way to the door, but she was in his path and looking
him directly in the face. He hesitated.

"I thought so," she said. "You needn't answer, Mr. Sylvester; your face
is answer enough. He is."

She turned away, and, walking slowly to the chair from which she had
arisen, sank into it.

"He is," she repeated. "I knew it. I wonder that I didn't know it from
the very first. How could I have been so blind!"

The lawyer, nervous, chagrined, and greatly troubled, remained standing
by the door. He did not know whether to go or stay. He took his
handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead.

"Whew!" he exclaimed. "Well, by--_George_!"

She paid no attention to him, but went on, speaking, apparently, to
herself.

"It explains everything," she said. "He was father's brother; and
father, in some way, took and used his money. But father knew what sort
of man he was, and so he asked him to be our guardian. Father thought he
would be kind to us, I suppose. And he has been kind--he has. But why
did he keep it a secret? Why did he.... I don't understand that. Of
course the money was his; all we had was his, by right. But to say
nothing ... and to let us believe.... It does not seem like him at all.
It...."

Sylvester interrupted quickly. "Caroline! Caroline!" he said, "don't
make any mistake. Don't misjudge your uncle again. He is a good man; one
of the best men I ever knew. Yes, and one of the wisest. Don't say
or think anything for which you may be sorry. I am speaking as your
friend."

She turned toward him once more, the distressed, puzzled look still on
her face. "But I don't understand," she cried. "He.... Oh, Mr.
Sylvester, please, now that I do know--now that you have told me so
much--won't you tell me the rest; the reason and--all of it? Please!"

The lawyer shook his head, regarding her with an expression of annoyance
and reluctant admiration.

"Now that _I've_ told