her glance aright, "I made my peace with Aunt Agatha before you came
in. She burst into tears at the sight of me and retired to her tent.
I can't make out just why, but I think she said it was either because
I'm so tanned and a little thinner, or because none of her family were
ever addicted to disappearing, or because she has an uncle who's a
bishop. I came from Philip."

"Philip!"

"Yes. He came to Mic-co's the morning I was leaving. Later we met
again at a village on the outskirts of the Glades. He waited for me.
There was a telegram there from the Baron. Philip said he knew you'd
forgive him if he sent his message on by me--his father is very ill."

"Poor Philip!" exclaimed the girl. In the fullness of her swift
compassion she forgot why Philip had gone back to the Indian village.
It flooded back directly and her wistful eyes implored.

"It was a jealous lie," said Carl gently. "The old chief knew. The
Indian who told it hated your father."

Diane sat so white and still that Carl touched her diffidently upon the
arm.

"Don't look so!" he pleaded. "There was some difficulty at first, for
Philip's Seminole is nearly as fragmentary as the old chief's English,
but they called in Sho-caw and after a host of blunders and
misunderstandings, Philip ran the thing to earth at last. Theodomir
married and divorced your mother in the Indian village just as the
paper in the candlestick said."

Still the girl did not speak or move and Carl saw with compassion that
the veins of her throat were throbbing wildly. He fell quietly to
talking of Keela, caught her interest and watched with a sense of
relief the rich color flood back to his cousin's lips and cheeks.

It was plain the tale of the golden mask had startled her a little, for
she laid her hand impetuously upon his arm, and her eyes searched his
face with troubled intentness.

"It will all be very singular and daring," she faltered after a while.
"I had thought of something like it myself--to help her, I mean. You
are so--_different_, Carl! I know of no man who might dare so much and
win." Then with unconscious tribute to one whose opinion she valued
above all others, she added: "Philip trusts you utterly. He has said
so. And Philip knows!"

Carl glanced furtively at her face and cleared his throat.

"Diane," he asked gravely, "I wonder how much that incredible tale of
the old candlestick pleased you?"

"I don't know," said Diane honestly. "I