rangement is, perhaps, removed; but the
fact borne in upon me at the time of that parting was that, while
she was everything in life to me, she hardly knew the meaning of
the words love and marriage. I need not tell you that I will do all
in my power to induce her to return to me, and all in my power to
win her heart. It was useless to make any attempt at reconciliation
while her guardian stood between us. I cannot pretend that I feel
more kindly towards Madame von Marwitz now; rather the reverse. It
is plain to me that she has treated Karen shamefully. You must
forgive me for my frankness.--Sincerely yours,

"Gregory Jardine."

Mrs. Talcott when she looked up from this letter saw that Mercedes was
absorbed in hers. Her expression had stiffened as she read, and when she
had finished the hand holding it dropped to her side. She sat looking
down in a dark contemplation.

Mrs. Talcott asked no question. United in the practical exigencies of
their search for Karen, united in their indestructible relation of
respective dependence and stability, which the last catastrophe had
hardly touched--for Mercedes had accepted her betrayal with a singular
passivity, as if it had been a force of nature that had overtaken
her--there was yet a whole new region of distrust between them. She and
Mercedes, as Mrs. Talcott cheerlessly imaged it, were like a constable
and his captive adrift, by a curious turn of fortune, on the waters of a
sudden inundation. Together they baled out water and worked at the oar,
but both were aware that when the present peril was past a sentence had
still to be carried out on one of them. Mercedes could not evade her
punishment. If Karen were found Gregory Jardine must come to know that
her guardian had, literally, driven her from her home. In that case it
rested with Gregory's sense of mercy whether Mercedes should be exposed
to the world or not. And after reading Gregory's letter Mrs. Talcott
reflected that there was not much to hope of mercy from him. So she
showed a tactful consideration of her companion's state of nerves by
pressing her no further than was necessary.

On this occasion, however, there was no need for pressure; Mercedes, in
her dismal plight, turned to her with the latest development of it.

"Ah," she said, while she still continued to gaze down fixedly, "this it
is to have true friends. This is human loyalty. It is well."

"What's the m