ence.

"Have you thought?" he asked, after a while, "what would happen if you
did not marry Frank Doughton in accordance with your uncle's
wishes--what terrible calamity would fall upon your uncle?"

She shook her head.

"I do not know," she said, frankly. "I am only beginning to get a dim
idea of Mr. Farrington's real character. I always thought he was a
kindly and considerate man; now I know him to be----" She stopped, and
Poltavo supplied her deficiency of speech.

"You know him to be a criminal," he smiled, "a man who has for years
been playing upon the fears and the credulity of his fellow-creatures.
That must have been a shocking discovery, Miss Gray, but at least you
will acquit him of having stolen your fortune."

"It is all very terrible," she said; "somehow every day brings it to me.
My aunt, Lady Dinsmore, was right."

"Lady Dinsmore is always right," he said, lightly; "it is one of the
privileges of her age and position. But in what respect was she right?"

The girl shook her head.

"I do not think it is loyal of me to tell you, but I must. She always
thought Mr. Farrington was engaged in some shady business and has warned
me time after time."

"An admirable woman," said Poltavo, with a sneer.

"In three days," he went on, thoughtfully. "Well, much may happen in
three days. I must confess that I am anxious to know what would be the
result of this marriage not taking place."

He did not wait for an expression of her views, but with a curt little
bow he ushered himself out of the room.

"Three days," he found himself repeating, as he made his way back to his
house. "Why should Farrington be in such a frantic hurry to marry the
girl off, and why should he have chosen this penniless reporter?"

This was a matter which required a great deal of examination.

Two of those three days were dream days for Frank Doughton; he could not
believe it possible that such a fortune could be his. But with his joy
there ran the knowledge that he was marrying a woman who had no desire
for such a union.

But she would learn to love him; so he promised himself in his optimism
and the assurance of his own love. He had unbounded faith in himself,
and was working hard in these days, not only upon his stories, but upon
the clue which the discovery of the belated letter afforded him. He had
carefully gone through the parish list to discover the Annies of the
past fifty years. In this he was somewhat handicapped by th