his death will bring. I hate saying that, for
there is something about him that I like enormously, but that is the
truth, and, May," he said, still holding her hand and looking earnestly
into her face, "I don't want to feel like that about John Minute. I
don't want to look forward to his end. I want to meet him without any
sense of dependence. I don't want to be looking all the time for signs
of decay and decrepitude, and hail each illness he may have with a
feeling of pleasant anticipation. It is beastly of me to talk like this,
I know, but if you were in my position--if you knew all that I know--you
would understand."

The girl's mind was in a ferment. An ordinary meeting had developed so
tumultuously that she had lost her command of the situation. A hundred
thoughts ran riot through her mind. She felt as though she were an
arbitrator deciding between two men, of both of whom she was fond, and,
even at that moment, there intruded into her mental vision a picture of
Jasper Cole, with his pale, intellectual face and his grave, dark eyes.

"I must think about this," she said again. "I don't think you had better
come down to the mission with me."

He nodded.

"Perhaps you're right," he said.

Gently she released her hand and left him.

For her that day was one of supreme mental perturbation. What was the
extraordinary reason which compelled his marriage by his twenty-fourth
birthday? She remembered how John Minute had insisted that her thoughts
about marriage should be at least postponed for the next fortnight. Why
had John Minute suddenly sprung this story of her legacy upon her? For
the first time in her life she began to regard her uncle with suspicion.

For Frank the day did not develop without its sensations. The Piccadilly
branch of the London and Western Counties Bank occupies commodious
premises, but Frank had never been granted the use of a private office.
His big desk was in a corner remote from the counter, surrounded on
three sides by a screen which was half glass and half teak paneling.
From where he sat he could secure a view of the counter, a necessary
provision, since he was occasionally called upon to identify the bearers
of checks.

He returned a little before three o'clock in the afternoon, and Mr.
Brandon, the manager, came hurriedly from his little sanctum at the rear
of the premises and beckoned Frank into his office.

"You've taken an awful long time for lunch," he complained.

"I'm sorr