offee spoon.

"Captain Dean seems to be the only person in Denboro who knows of the
sale," she said. "Why has he kept it a secret?"

"I don't know. Has he?"

"You know he has, Mr. Paine. Mr. Cahoon did not know of it, and he would
be one of the first to hear. It seems odd that the captain should tell
no one."

"Probably he is waiting for the full particulars. He will tell, you may
be sure of that. His last remark to me was that he should drive me out
of Denboro."

I rather expected a burst of indignation. In fact I was somewhat hurt
and disappointed that it did not come. She merely smiled once more.

"He has not done it yet," she said. "If he knew why you sold that
land--your real reason for selling it--he would not drive you away, or
try to."

I was startled and alarmed.

"What do you mean?" I asked quickly.

"If he knew he would not drive you away, would he?"

"He will never know."

"Perhaps he may. Perhaps the person for whose sake you sold it may tell
him."

"Indeed he will not! I shall see to that."

"Oh, then there is such a person! I was sure of it before. Now you have
told me."

Before I could recover from the mental disturbance and chagrin which my
slip and her quick seizure of it caused me, the butler re-entered the
room.

"Mrs. Colton is awake and asking for you, Miss Mabel," he said. "The
doctor thinks you had better go to her at once, if you please."

With a word of apology to me, she hurried away. I rose from the table. I
had had breakfast enough. The interruption had come at a fortunate
time for me. Her next question might have forced me to decline to
answer--which would have been equivalent to admitting the truth--or to
lie. One thing I determined to do without delay. I would write Taylor at
once warning him to be more close-mouthed than ever. Under no conditions
would I permit him to speak. If it were necessary I would go to
Washington, where he and Nellie were spending their honeymoon, and make
him promise to keep silence. His telling the truth might ruin him, and
it certainly would not help me. In the one essential thing--the one
which was clenching my determination to leave Denboro as soon as I could
and seek forgetfulness and occupation elsewhere--no one could help me.
I must help myself, or be miserable always. Just now the eternal misery
seemed inevitable, no matter what I did.

Johnson cleared the table and left me alone in the library. The hours
passed. Nine o'clock came,