rill in its hate and vengeful
malevolence, rang out clear on the sweet morning air. "Ha-ha-ha! But I
don't think you've altogether counted the cost, my Hilary. How about
Lyn--your sweet, pure, innocent Lyn? What will she say when she knows?
What will her father say when they both know--that you have allowed her
to be under the same roof with--to grasp in ordinary social friendship
the hand of your--for years--most devoted and affectionate...
housekeeper?"

Well was it for the speaker, well for both of them, that the words were
uttered here, and not in the far-away scene of the life to which she
referred. For a second, just one brief second, the man's eyes flashed
the murder in his soul. With marvellous self-restraint, but with dry
lips and face a shade pale, he answered:

"That would be a regrettable thing to happen. But, it doesn't shake my
determination. I don't see, either, how the outraging of other people's
finer feelings is going to benefit you, or, to any appreciable extent,
injure me."

"Don't you? Why, in that event, the sweet, pure, and beautiful Lyn--
yes, she is beautiful--I'd concede that and more--will bid you an
extremely cold and curt farewell--even if she condescends to speak to
you again at all for the remainder of your natural life."

"That too, would be regrettable, and would pain me. But we should have
to say good-bye sooner or later."

"No, Hilary. You never intended to say anything of the sort. You can't
fool me, you see."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Again the jeering laugh rang out. "What am I talking about?" she
echoed, quite undaunted by the curt, stern tones. "You know perfectly
well. You are over head and ears in love with her."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? It is though," she answered, her eyes fixed full upon his
and rippling into mischievous laughter. "Why, you have grown quite pale
at the bare mention of it! Shall I say it again? You are over head and
ears in love with her. And--I wonder if she is with you?"

"Oh, hold your scandalous tongue, woman," he rejoined wearily, knowing
better than to delight her by exhibiting what must necessarily be
impotent anger. "Really, you are rendering yourself absolutely and
uncompromisingly loathsome. Again I say you must give up this scheme.
I will prevent it at any cost."

"Well, you know what the cost is--and if you don't, it isn't for want of
warning. Keep quiet and so will I. Interfere with my pl