train home again. He was such good company
and such a jolly, worldly fellow--so thoughtful and deferential! Can't
you realize, Donald, how he must have appealed to a little country
goose like me?

"Well, finally, daddy Brent learned that Signor Moretti, a tenor who
had retired from grand opera, had opened a studio in San Francisco. We
both wanted Moretti to pass on my voice, but we couldn't afford the
expense of a journey to San Francisco for two, so daddy sent me alone.
I wrote--that man about our plans, and told him the name of the
steamer I was sailing on. Your father gave me a passage on one of his
steam-schooners, and when we got to the dock in San Francisco--"

"_He_ was there, eh? Came down by train and beat the steamer in."
Donald nodded his comprehension. "What did Moretti say about your
voice?"

"The usual thing. My Seattle teacher had almost ruined my voice, he
declared, but, for all that, he was very enthusiastic and promised me
a career within five years if I would place myself unreservedly in his
hands. Of course, we couldn't afford such an expensive career, and the
realization that I had to forego even the special inducements Signor
Moretti was generous enough to make me quite broke my heart. When I
told _him_ about it--we were engaged by that time--he suggested that
we get married immediately, in order that I might reside with him in
San Francisco and study under Moretti. So we motored out into the
country one day and were married at San Jose. He asked me to keep our
marriage secret on account of some clause in his father's will, but I
insisted upon my right to tell daddy Brent. Poor old dear! My marriage
was such a shock to him; but he agreed with me that it was all for the
best--"

"Well, I was quite happy for three months. My husband's business
interests necessitated very frequent trips North--"

"What business was he in, Nan?"

"That is immaterial," she evaded him. "Presently, Signer Moretti
contracted a severe cold and closed his studio for a month. My
husband--I suppose I must call him that to identify him when I refer
to him--had just gone North on one of his frequent trips, and since he
always kept me generously supplied with money, I decided suddenly to
take advantage of Moretti's absence to run up to Port Agnew and visit
my father.

"In Seattle, as I alighted from the train, I saw my husband in the
station with another woman. I recognized her. She was a friend of
mine--a very dear, k