who defied me and mocked me. Not the little meek mouse on the
hearth. I love the woman you are to-night."

"Am I like her--the best woman in the world?" she whispered.

"Yes," he cried triumphantly. "And you will grow more and more like
her--the type of woman I want you to be. Don't you care for me--a little,
Pen?"

Again his arm was about her. She turned to meet his eyes,
deep-set--intense--burning.

"Kurt--I--"

A little wave of doubt, of contrition, stole over her.

"I don't love you," she said uncomfortably.

"Don't you want to love me, Pen?"

"No!"

She rose impulsively, and there were tears in her eyes, though there was a
half wistful smile on her lips, as she passed him swiftly and fled toward
the stairway.

He followed.

"You mustn't leave me, this way. Pen--"

For a shining second she leaned against him.

"I must. I can't tell you now. I'll think it over. You surely want me to
be honest with you!"

In the upper hall she passed the open door of Hebler's room. There were no
inner lights, but the shafts of a moonbeam shone straight upon an article
lying on a small table near the door, finding response in glimmering
gleams.

She stopped, electrified.

"Oh!"

Fascinated by the sparkle, she lingered for a moment, and then went
quickly to her room and straight to the window that looked on the moonlit
hills. She stayed there awhile, her hands clenched, thinking intensely and
rapidly--of Larry soaring like an eagle, proud and secure in his
conquering of the air--of Marta's sudden severance from the habit of a
lifetime--of Jo's faith in her--of Kurt wrestling with his conflict
between love and conventions. "Does he care, really, as much as he thinks
he does," she wondered, "or is it just the lure of--propinquity? How shall
I find out? Oh, there is too much on my mind! How careless and how like
Hebby to leave his priceless ring about. What would he think if he knew
the thief was next door to it?"

She left the window and went to the door.

* * * * *

The ring still sent forth shafts of sparkles.

A figure came stealthily out into the hall, paused near the open door. A
hand reached quickly out and closed over the ring.

CHAPTER XII

"Have we a new maid, Kurt?" asked Kingdon at the breakfast table next
morning. "I had a glimpse of a pretty little girl talking to Agatha."

"Mrs. Kingdon sent her here to do the sewing and look after the childr