k over with you at more
length than is possible by letter. But I knew what a rage it
put Felix into when he learned about my being there the last
time and how unhappy his anger and violent talk made both of
you, and especially your mother, and I didn't want to
subject you to such an experience again.

"But the time is coming soon when I shall be able to visit
you as often as you will let me. I am looking forward to
that time with such anticipations of happiness as I hardly
dare tell you about. If you should decide against me, if you
should not feel toward me as I hope you will--but, no, that
would not be possible. And so I shall go on thinking of the
happy times we shall have when I run over often to see you
and when I take both of you upon little trips--to the
seashore, to New York, wherever you think you would like to
go. For we can make that sort of pleasure possible for you,
Penelope, if you want to undertake it.

"It will all be decided and everything explained the next
time I see you. But to prepare the way for all that I shall
have to tell you, so that you will be ready to listen to it
understandingly, I am sending you a book to read in the
meantime. You will find in it one of the wonder stories of
modern science, and in its light that quick, keen mind of
yours will go to the heart of this matter at once. You will
see clearly through the essentials of the mystery you have
already sensed in the relations between Felix and me. But I
hope you will not make up your mind about it until I can
explain to you the whole matter, from beginning to end. I
think that will be soon, within two or three weeks. In the
meantime, you will not hear from me again, for I shall have
to go away for a while."

The rest of the letter was taken up with matters about which they had
been conferring for some time. But Penelope was not able to find in
them her usual interest, so deep was her absorption in Gordon's
mystifying allusions and promises.

The anxious wonder they aroused in her, however, was hardly greater
than the trepidation and the sense of mystery which descended upon
Henrietta Marne as she studied, that same morning, the envelope of
Gordon's letter to Felix Brand. Why should such a letter always herald
Brand's return from these unaccountable absences, which grew ever
longer