he truth is revealed to
you. A young girl, unused to the ways of men, perhaps I
attached too much importance to Mr. Glover's attentions, and
resented them too crudely. In those days I thought it was
unpardonable that a man who professed to be poor James's best
friend, should make love to his fiancee, though I suppose that
such things happen, and are endured by the modern girl. A man
does not readily forgive a woman for making him feel a fool--it
is the one unpardonable offence that a girl can commit.
Therefore, I do not resent his enmity as much as you might
think. Believe me, I feel for you very much in these trying
days. Let me say again that I hope your future will be
bright._"

She blotted the letter, put it in an envelope, and addressed it, and
taking down a book from one of the well-stocked shelves, drew her chair
to the fire, and began reading.

Mr. Briggerland came in an hour after, looked over her shoulder at the
title, and made a sound of disapproval.

"I can't understand your liking for that kind of book," he said.

The book was one of the two volumes of "Chronicles of Crime," and she
looked up with a smile.

"Can't you? It's very easily explained. It is the most encouraging work
in my collection. Sit down for a minute."

"A record of vulgar criminals," he growled. "Their infernal last dying
speeches, their processions to Tyburn--phaugh!"

She smiled again, and looked down at the book. The wide margins were
covered with pencilled notes in her writing.

"They're a splendid mental exercise," she said. "In every case I have
written down how the criminal might have escaped arrest, but they were
all so vulgar, and so stupid. Really the police of the time deserve no
credit for catching them. It is the same with modern criminals...."

She went to the shelf, and took down two large scrap-books, carried them
across to the fire, and opened one on her knees.

"Vulgar and stupid, every one of them," she repeated, as she turned the
leaves rapidly.

"The clever ones get caught at times," said Briggerland gloomily.

"Never," she said, and closed the book with a snap. "In England, in
France, in America, and in almost every civilised country, there are
murderers walking about to-day, respected by their fellow citizens.
Murderers, of whose crimes the police are ignorant. Look at these." She
opened the book again. "Here is the case of Rell, who poisons a