d off; she really must see Aunt Kate, and would seize this
opportunity to go home for a night. But leaving the table Norma asked
Chris if she might talk business to him for a few minutes.

They sat in the old library, Chris sunk in a great leather chair,
smoking cigarettes, Norma opposite, her white hands clasped on the
blackness of her simple gown, and her eyes moving occasionally from
their quiet study of the fire to rest on Chris's face.

"Chris," she said, "I've thought this all out, now, and I'm not really
asking your advice, I'm telling you what I am going to do! I'm going to
California with Wolf in a week or two--that's the first thing!"

He stared at her blankly, and as the minutes of silence between them
lengthened Norma noticed his lips compress themselves into a thin,
colourless line. But she returned his look bravely, and in her eyes
there was something that told the man she was determined in her
decision.

"I don't quite follow you, Norma," he said at last with difficulty. "You
mean that all the plans and hopes we shared and discussed----" He
faltered a moment and then made another effort: "Now that whatever
obstacles there were have been removed, and you and I are free to
fulfill our destinies, am I to understand that--that you are going back
to your husband?"

"Exactly." The girl's answer was firm and determined.

The colour fled from Chris's face, and a cold light came into his eye;
his jaw stiffened.

"You must use your own judgment, Norma," he answered, with a displeased
shrug.

"I'll leave with you, or send you, my power of attorney," the girl went
on, "and you and Hendrick as executors must do whatever you think right
and just--just deposit the money in the bank!"

"I see," Chris said, noncommittally.

"And there's another thing," Norma went on, with heightened colour. "I
don't want either Leslie or Aunt Annie ever to know--what you and I
know!"

Chris looked at her, frowning slightly.

"That's impossible, of course," he said. "What are they going to think?"

"They'll think nothing," Norma said, confidently, but with anxious eyes
fixed on his face, "because they'll know nothing. There'll be no change,
nothing to make them suspect anything."

"But--great God! You don't seem to understand, Norma. Proofs of your
birth, of your rightful heritage, your identity, the fact that you are
Theodore's child, must be shown them, of course. You have inherited by
Aunt Marianna's will the bulk of h