priests before to-day, and was half-inclined to believe that
the rector himself was the culprit indicated. However, he didn't care to
hazard a guess openly.

"There is no objection to keeping our mouths shut for an hour or two,
sir," he answered.

"I am obliged to you for the concession. Until after the evening service
then; after that you can do as you please."

The rector picked up his hat, and walked out of the house without another
word, leaving the policemen in some doubt as to the wisdom of allowing
him out of sight.

Mary heard the talking in the hall, and her husband's step past the
window, and was paralyzed with terror, fearing lest he might already have
betrayed her to the police. The easiest way to settle the doubt was to go
into the hall, and see what had happened. To her infinite relief, the
officer allowed her to pass out of the front door without molestation.

The automobile for which she had telephoned was already waiting. She
entered hurriedly, and bade the chauffeur drive at top speed to Asherton
Hall. The cold air outside in the darkening twilight revived her, and
brought fresh energy. Her anger against her father grew with every turn
of the wheels, and her rage was such that she almost contemplated killing
him. Indeed, the vague idea was rioting in her mind that, rather than go
to prison, she would die, first wreaking some terrible vengeance on the
miser, who had ruined the happiness of her married life and brought
disaster on all belonging to her.

On her arrival, there were only three windows lighted in the whole front
of the great house; but outside the entrance there were the blinking
lamps of two carriages, one a shabby hired vehicle, the other a smart
brougham, which she recognized at once as belonging to her father's
family physician.

Her heart sank with an awful dread. If her father were ill, and unable to
give attention to her affairs, it spelled ruin.

The door was opened by Mrs. Ripon, who admitted Mrs. Swinton in silence.
The hall was lighted by a single oil lamp, which only served to intensify
the desolation and gloom of the dingy, faded house.

"I want to see my father at once, Mrs. Ripon," the distracted woman
declared.

"The doctor is with him, madam. He won't be long. Will you step into the
library? Mr. Barnby is there."

The mention of that name caused her another fright. She was inclined to
avoid the bank-manager. Curiosity, however, conquered, and she resolved
to fa