ave no positive knowledge of any cause why I should
shrink from continuing in my natural home. I have only suspicions, which
perhaps you could clear up or confirm, if you would be frank with me."

He drove on slowly in silence without answering her. She continued:

"I wrote to you while you were in Europe, informing you that Mrs.
Stillwater had been invited by my grandfather to come to Rockhold to
remain as long as should be convenient to herself. You never replied to
my letter."

"I never got such a letter, Cora. It must have been lost with others
that miscarried among the Continental mails, when they were following me
from one office to another. But even if I had received such a letter, it
could have made no difference. I could not have prevented Mrs.
Stillwater's visit, nor the event that resulted from the visit. I could
not have written or returned in time."

"Should you have prevented the visit or the marriage that followed if
you could have done so?"

"Most certainly I should."

"Why?"

"For the same reason that you, or Clarence, or Sylvan would have done
so. For the reason of its total unfitness. But, Cora, my dear, I repeat
that you have not been frank with me. You are hiding something from me."

"And I repeat, Uncle Fabian, that I have no positive knowledge of any--"

"Yes; so you said before," he exclaimed, interrupting her. "You have no
positive knowledge, but you have very strong suspicions founded upon
very solid grounds! Now, what are these grounds, my dear? I am your
uncle. You should give me your confidence."

If Mr. Fabian had not put the matter in this way, and if they had not
been driving along the dark and over-shadowed road where the meeting
branches of the trees above almost hid the light of the stars, so that
only one or two occasionally gleamed through the foliage, Cora would
never have been able to reply to her uncle as she did.

"Uncle Fabian, do you remember a certain warm night in September some
five years ago, when we stopped at the Wirt House in Baltimore?"

"On our way home from Canada--yes, I do."

"My room was close that night and I could not sleep. A little after
midnight I got up and put oil my dressing-gown and went into the
adjoining room, which was our private parlor, and I sat down in a cool
corner in the shadow of the curtain and in the draught of the window. I
fell asleep, but was soon awakened by the sound of a door opening and
some one whispering. I was about to