ion of her petulance and
discontented attitude? That fellow Madison was now a man of means. The
coincidence of the despatch brought back to the broker's mind the night
scene on the terrace in Denver, and later their conversation at the
boarding house in New York, and with the subtle intuition of the shrewd
man of the world, he at once connected the two. Eyeing his companion
keenly and suspiciously, he said:

"I don't suppose, Laura, that you'd be interested now in knowing
anything about that young fellow out in Colorado? What was his
name--Madison?"

The girl started and changed color.

"Do you know anything?" she said quickly.

"No, nothing particularly," he replied, with affected carelessness.
"I've been rather curious to know how he came out. He was a pretty
fresh young man, and did an awful lot of talking. I wonder how he's
doing and how he's getting along. I don't suppose by any chance you
have ever heard from him?"

She shook her head.

"No, no; I've never heard."

"I presume he never replied to that letter you wrote?"

"No."

"It would be rather queer, eh, if this young fellow should happen to
come across a lot of money--not that I think he ever could, but it
would be funny, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, yes," she said quickly; "it would be unexpected. I hope he does.
It might make him happy."

"Think he might take a trip East and see you act? You know you've got
quite a part now."

Laura tossed back her head impatiently. Petulantly she said:

"I wish you wouldn't discuss him. Why do you mention it now? Is it
because you were drinking last night, and lost your sense of delicacy?
You once had some consideration for me. What I've done I've done. I'm
giving _you_ all that I can. Please, please, don't hurt me any more
than you can help. That's all I ask."

Brockton rose, and, going over to her, placed his hands on her
shoulders and his cheek close to the back of her head. He was sorry he
had spoken so sharply. In his gruff way he was as fond of her as ever,
but he could not help it if he sometimes felt under the weather.

"You know, dearie," he said kindly, "I do a lot for you because you've
always been on the level with me. I'm sorry I hurt you, but there was
too much wine last night, and I'm all upset. Forgive me."

He tried to kiss her, to make up, but she averted her head. Holding
herself aloof, she shuddered. A feeling of repulsion passed through
her. Perhaps never so much as now had she realized th