p to her.

'Well,' he said, 'we've been treated to a very pretty story this
evening. This is the young gentleman you're going to give me for a
son-in-law, is it, Gilda? But of course you don't believe a word
against him!'

'I believe it all--and more!' she said with a passionate sob.

Caffyn turned to her. 'You too, Gilda!' he cried pathetically.

'You might have deceived me even after this,' she said, 'only--mamma
sent me to go and fetch you--I heard you out there on the balcony,
talking to Mabel, and--and I went out by the other window, this one,
and along the balcony to the corner----'

'And, in point of fact, you listened!' he said.

'Yes, I did,' she retorted, 'and I shall be glad of it all my life. I
heard enough to save me from you!'

She left him there and flew to Mabel, whom she embraced with a
remorseful hug.

'You darling!' she whispered, 'what a wicked fool I was ever to be
jealous of you--and about _him_. You will forgive me, won't you? And I
am so glad about poor dear Mr. Ashburn.'

Mr. Featherstone tapped Caffyn lightly on the shoulder.

'Well, Master Harold,' he said, 'have you got anything to say? With
all this suppressing, and plotting, and bullying, and threatening, and
the rest of it--it strikes me you have made a d----d fool of
yourself!'

The same idea had already occurred to Caffyn. He had been admirably
cool and cautious; he had devoted all his energies to securing Mabel's
marriage to Mark; he had watched and waited and sprung his mine with
every precaution--and he was the only person it had blown up! His
schemes had failed exactly like a common fool's--which was painful to
reflect upon.

'If I haven't,' he said with a slight grimace, 'I've been made to look
very like one.'

'You're more rogue than fool, after all,' observed the merchant, with
distressing candour; 'and, by the way, I'm rather particular about
getting all my correspondence, and I invariably prefer to burn my own
letters. I don't think my offices are quite the place for such a
gifted young fellow as you seem to be.'

'You mean I'm to go?' said Caffyn.

'I do,' was the reply. 'I never will have any one about me I can't
trust. I did think once--but that's over--you heard what my girl said
to you!--we'd better part now. I won't deny I'm sorry!'

'Not sorrier than I am, I'll swear!' said Caffyn, with a short laugh.
'Good-bye, Mrs. Featherstone,' he added to that lady, who stood by.
'_You're_ not sorry, are you? Gi