has left his
money to Anne, every penny of it. I get nothing," cried Portia, with a
fresh burst of grief; "but I do hope Anne will help me. I'm sure I've
always been very good to her, even though she isn't my sister."

"Did your father tell you she wasn't?"

"Yes. He said she was an adopted child. Though why he should have left
her all, and me nothing----"

Here Portia wept again.

Ware saw that Denham had arranged with Asher that her father's money
should pass to Anne. No doubt he had told the lawyer the whole history
of the imposture, and Asher would now take steps to place Anne in
possession of her fortune. But Denham had deceived Portia, probably
because he wished the girl to think well of him after he was dead. Giles
resolved that he would not undeceive the girl.

"I'll see that things are made easy for you," he said. "Are you still at
the Priory?"

"There's nowhere else for me to go till I hear from Anne."

"Anne is in town. I'll write to her, and we'll see what can be done."

Portia rose to go, but she expressed no thanks for his kindness. "So you
are to marry Anne," she said. "Well, I hope you'll be good to her."

"Don't you think I shall?"

Portia, in spite of her grief, tossed her head. "I don't know," she
said; "all men are bad, except my father, who was very, very good," and
she looked defiantly at Giles as though challenging contradiction.

But Ware was too sorry for the girl to make any harsh remark. He walked
with her to the outer door, and sent her away in a much more cheerful
mood. Then he returned to his study, and found Mrs. Morley already
seated near his desk. She looked ill and worn, but, in strange contrast
to her usual custom, wore a colored gown, and evidently had been trying
to dress herself as gaily as possible. She saw the surprised look on
Giles' face, and guessed its meaning.

"Yes, Mr. Ware," she said, plucking at her dress, "you see I have my
holiday clothes on. Even though Oliver has left me, there is no need for
me to go into mourning. No. He has deserted me basely. I am determined
to show the world that I don't care."

"Mrs. Morley, your husband is dead."

"Dead!" She half started from her chair, but sat down again with a white
face. Then to Giles' horror she began to laugh. He knew that Morley had
been a bad husband to the woman before him, but that she should laugh on
hearing of his death, made him shiver. He hastily explained how Morley
had met with his fate, and Mr