Yours devotedly,
HERBERT."

"Well, what do you think of that?" Collins asked, turning toward his
brother-in-law. "My wife loves another man. And he's urging her to wreck
her home!"

Ward's eyes alternated between his sister and her husband.

"Of course, she's not going to do it," he said as if expressing an
inevitable conclusion.

"I'm going to leave here this very day," she declared firmly.

"And plunge into the scandal of a divorce proceeding?" Her brother
bestowed a reproachful glance upon her. "Grace, you know how I feel
toward your husband. Long ago I urged you to divorce him, but you
refused. Now you must consider me. Think of the notoriety! My
approaching marriage must not be overcast by the awful scandal that will
follow your trip to Reno. Were we less prominent socially, it might be
different. But the newspapers will be full of it. No, Grace, don't do
anything hasty--not just now."

"You counsel me to continue living with him?" she inquired.

"I simply ask you to continue as you're doing."

She bent forward in her chair, her face set in an expression of
unalterable determination.

"I love Herbert," she declared calmly, unmindful of the amazement which
her avowal produced. "I have loved him a long while," she continued
undismayed. "I crave him--I loathe the man to whom I am wedded."

"I sympathize with you," the brother hastened to assure her, "and, were
it not for my marriage, I should urge you to leave him at once. He's a
cad--"

"I'm not the sort of cad that permits another man to destroy his home,"
blurted Collins.

The others ignored his interruption.

"Lester," said the wife, "I shall leave this house to-day. Regardless of
your marriage, I shall apply for a divorce and marry Herbert Whitmore."

The strained silence which followed was broken by Collins. He arose and
walked to the door.

"You'll never marry Whitmore," he said. "There is a higher law that
protects the home."

"Why--what do you mean?" the wife inquired in a tone of alarm. Something
in her husband's face, something she had never seen there before,
frightened her.

"I'm going to kill Whitmore," he said, leaving the room.

CHAPTER III

A premeditated killing wherein the murderer makes no provision to
protect himself from the sure consequences of his act, requires a
certain amount of perverted courage. Neither Mrs. Collins nor her
brother credited Collins with the possession of even this low
courage--at leas