nted that letter
sent."

She went on to repeat what Gordon had told her and ended with: "Of
course, I didn't take his word for it entirely, but after what he told
me I was able to find out enough to make me feel sure it was the right
thing to do."

"You did quite right," he told her cordially. "But I am surprised to
learn of his doing, for me, a friendly act like that. You said he was
here afterwards?"

"Yes, several times. He came to tell me that you were quite safe and
well and would return before long. I was very glad to have the
assurance, for, of course, I couldn't help being anxious."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it again suddenly, then, as
he busied his hands with some papers on his desk, took sudden
resolution and, though his face paled, said in a casual way:

"Did he tell you where I was?"

"He said he didn't know where you were, but that he did know
positively that if anything should happen to you he would be the
first person to know anything about it. I felt so much less anxious
after that."

"Yes, it was quite true, what he said," Brand assented slowly. He
hesitated again, as if on the verge of farther speech, and Henrietta
waited. After a moment he turned to her a face out of which he seemed
purposely to have forced all expression and asked:

"How did he impress you? Do you think he looks like me? Some people
say he does."

"Oh, he impressed me very favorably, indeed. He seemed so sincere
and so kind and so much in earnest. No, I didn't think he looked
like you, except in a general way. His features, perhaps, are
something like yours, but he himself is so different, his manner,
his expression--everything."

She spoke interestedly, the color rising in her cheeks, and Brand
watched her narrowly. "Oh, that reminds me," she exclaimed, "there's a
letter for you from him. It's in my desk."

She went to get it and as her employer's gaze followed her his eyes
widened and his face grew ashen. "My God!" he muttered, and there was
consternation in his whispered tone. Then sudden anger flashed over
him. Henrietta felt it quivering in his tones as he said, when she
gave him the envelope:

"Thank you, Miss Marne. You did just right about mailing that letter,
and I am much pleased that you did. But hereafter don't trust that
fellow Gordon in any way. For all his pretense of friendship, he is
the worst enemy I have and would stop at nothing to injure me.
Hereafter he must not be allowed to