ch his one darling lay ill! Even
now, it was easy for me to recall his face as I had sometimes caught a
glimpse of it through the crack of the suddenly opened door, and I felt
my breast heave and my hand falter as I drew forth the stiletto and
moved to place it where his eye would fall upon it on his leaving his
daughter's bedside.

But my hand returned quickly to my breast and fell hack again empty. A
pile of letters lay before me on the open lid of the desk. The top one
was addressed to me with the word "Important" written in the corner. I
did not know the writing, but I felt that I should open and read this
letter before committing myself or those who stood back of me to this
desperate undertaking.

Glancing behind me and seeing that the door into Miss Grey's room was
ajar, I caught up this letter and rushed with it back into my own room.
As I surmised, it was from the inspector, and as I read it I realized
that I had received it not one moment too soon. In language purposely
non-committal, but of a meaning not to be mistaken, it advised me
that some unforeseen facts had come to light which altered all former
suspicions and made the little surprise I had planned no longer
necessary.

There was no allusion to Mr. Durand but the final sentence ran:

"Drop all care and give your undivided attention to your patient."

XIII. THE MISSING RECOMMENDATION

My patient slept that night, but I did not. The shock given by this
sudden cry of Halt! at the very moment I was about to make my great
move, the uncertainty as to what it meant and my doubt of its effect
upon Mr. Durand's position, put me on the anxious seat and kept my
thoughts fully occupied till morning.

I was very tired and must have shown it, when, with the first rays of a
very meager sun, Miss Grey softly unclosed her eyes and found me looking
at her, for her smile had a sweet compassion in it, and she said as she
pressed my hand:

"You must have watched me all night. I never saw any one look so
tired,--or so good," she softly finished.

I had rather she had not uttered that last phrase. It did not fit me
at the moment,--did not fit me, perhaps, at any time. Good! I! when my
thoughts had not been with her, but with Mr. Durand; when the dominating
feeling in my breast was not that of relief, but a vague regret that I
had not been allowed to make my great test and so establish, to my own
satisfaction, at least, the perfect innocence of my lover even a