hat he was secretly studying me, I felt quite
assured.

Another thing furnished me with some food for thought: Not long before
we took our leave, and while Miss Jenrys and Lossing were deep in the
discussion of the latest Spanish novel, Miss Ross said to me, quite
abruptly, and apropos of nothing:

'Did June tell you that Monsieur Voisin was here to-day?'

I nodded, and she went on:

'You know my feeling where he is concerned; at least, I think you do.
He is growing really aggressive, and June is blind to it; she is
preoccupied. But I see all where she is concerned, and he will make
her trouble. He is infatuated and bitterly jealous, and he is a man
who knows no law but his own will. Do I not read him aright?'

* * * * *

The next morning I sent a note, written in the same dainty hand as the
first, and signed with the initials J. J., to the little brunette,
sending it as before to the cafe where she had lodged, and twenty-four
hours later the telegram from Boston came.

In addition to my own letter, I had sent in the same envelope a copy
of Miss O'Neil's, or as much of it as would help Mr. Trent to
understand all that had been done by the young ladies in his absence.

His telegram read:

'Thanks for all. Carry out plan. Have ordered return of
money. Letter follows.

'TRENT.'

Two days later came Mr. Trent's letter, and with it the original
composition of Mr. E. Roe, 'On the Square.'

As Miss O'Neil had said, it was written in a small, clear, angular
hand, which had the look of a genuine autograph, without attempt at
disguise.

In this I quite agreed with her, and I stowed the letter carefully
away for future use. Mr. Trent in his letter assured me that he could
not make E. Roe's letter ring true, and that he had finally convinced
his daughter and Miss O'Neil that they had made a mistake. 'Go on in
your own way,' he concluded; 'and I hope before long to be with you.
My wife has recovered from her delirium--very weak, but quite sane
except upon one point--she believes our son to be ill in a hospital in
Chicago, and the doctor has bidden us humour her in this
hallucination, as it may save her life. He looks now for a gradual
recovery, and when she is a little stronger I shall come to you;
already she has planned for the journey, and assured me that our boy
needs me most. It is sad, inexpressibly so, but it is better, a