. "That is," he corrected himself, with a
hasty glance at her, "I mean the best. Yes, certainly the best."

Winifred bit her lip and looked away with a puzzled discontent. What did
he mean? The worst and the best ... strong words for a man of his age to
use. The "worst" and the "best" should only be applied to strong
emotions, such as are caused by love, money, or honor. Which of these
potent stimulants was at work?

"I am going in," she said suddenly. "Please don't get up. If I can be of
any help in any way, you must let me know. But I ... I am glad your news
is 'the best.'"

She went into the house, leaving Lionel to his letter. This was it.

"BLOOMSBURY, LONDON.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,--The cable announcing Lukos' death came
to-night at seven. As soon as I had recovered from the shock I
wired the news to you, but I do not expect that the telegram
will be delivered till to-morrow morning. And now, at half past
eight, I am sitting down to write very hurriedly, to tell you
of my plans.

"I mean to go straight to Constantinople within two days. Why?
To make sure, in the first instance--to find out for myself if
he is really dead, and if it was 'measles' or something worse.
I feel that the news must be true, but I must make certain. If
it _is_ true, then perhaps I can do something by way of
revenge. You, I hope, will still befriend me by trying to
regain the stolen papers. They may be of use to England yet. If
not to England, then to me--a woman who has lost her husband.
This is no time to assess my love for him, but I owe something
at least to his memory, and the debt shall be paid.

"I must see you before leaving, and I hope to come down to
Shereling to-morrow. Please tell my sister. You know our
differences, but I am sure she will sympathize and help me.
Yes; I am sure. I believe now that I was wrong in suspecting
her--my information was untrustworthy, but I had every excuse.
In haste.--Your friend,

"BEATRICE BLAIR."

Lionel's heart leaped as he read a second and a third time the words of
comfort. At the first casual glance he could only understand that
Beatrice was going out of his life, perhaps forever, and he plumbed
depths hitherto undreamed of. But after the blow came the reaction and a
saner grasp of the true importance of her news. He was on fire, yet
coldly logical. The white heat of hi