himself as Hagar
showed Mrs. Detlor to a landau. Mrs. Detlor asked to be driven to her
hotel.

"I shall see you this afternoon at the excursion if you are well enough
to go," Hagar said to her.

"Perhaps," she said with a strange smile. Then, as she drove away, "You
have not read your letters this morning." He looked after her for a
moment, puzzled by what she said and by the expression on her face.

He went back to the house abstractedly. Baron was sitting in a chair,
smoking hard. Neither men spoke at first. Hagar went over to the mantel
and adjusted the mirror, thinking the while of Mrs. Detlor's last words.
"You haven't read your letters this morning," he repeated to himself. He
glanced down and saw the letter which had so startled Mrs. Detlor.

"From Mrs. Gladney!" he said to himself. He glanced at the other letters.
They were obviously business letters. He was certain Mrs. Detlor had not
touched them and had, therefore, only seen this one which lay on top.
"Could she have meant anything to do with this?" He tapped it upward with
his thumb. "But why, in the name of heaven, should this affect her? What
had she to do with Mrs. Gladney, or Mrs. Gladney with her?"

With this inquiry showing in his eyes he turned round and looked at Baron
meditatively but unconsciously. Baron, understanding the look, said, "Oh,
don't mind me. Read your letters. My business'll keep."

Hagar nodded, was about to open the letter, but paused, went over to the
archway and drew the curtains. Then he opened the letter. The body of it
ran:

DEAR MR. HAGAR--I have just learned on my return from the Continent
with the Branscombes that you are at Herridon. My daughter Mildred,
whom you have never seen--and that is strange, we having known each
other so long--is staying at the View House there with the Margraves,
whom, also, I think, you do not know. I am going down to-morrow, and
will introduce you all to each other. May I ask you to call on me
there? Once or twice you have done me a great service, and I may prove
my gratitude by asking you to do another. Will this frighten you out
of Herridon before I come? I hope not, indeed. Always gratefully
yours,

IDA GLADNEY.

He thoughtfully folded the letter up, and put it in his pocket. Then he
said to Baron, "What did you say was the name of the pretty girl at the
View House?"

"Mildred, Mildred Margrave--lovely, 'cometh up as a flower,' and all