and of you, I have desired to see whether it were possible to inspire
her with love for a man so much older than herself. For, much as I love
her, I would not seek to marry her without a return of love--not mere
respect, esteem, or gratitude. That is the problem I have been waiting
to solve."

A confession to this effect was on the tip of his tongue. To have made
it, would have been like tearing open his breast and showing his heart.
But he would have made it, whatever the pain, if, on looking nervously
up from the letter, which he had now finished, he had not met the cold,
searching eyes of the inventor. He instantly shut his lips upon the
outcoming confession, and said, with as much indifference as he could
awkwardly assume:

"I hope, sir, you have taken the trouble to investigate these ridiculous
charges." But Marcus inwardly hoped he had not.

"I have sir," responded the inventor, gravely. "Had the accusations been
vague, like those in the first letter from this unknown person, I should
have dismissed them from my mind with a laugh. But they were so
specific, and the truth or falsity of them was so easily ascertained,
that I thought it my duty, in justice to my daughter, yourself, and to
me, to look into them. It was a painful task, but I have done it."

"And what have you learned?" asked Marcus, making a transparent feint to
look at ease.

"I will tell you frankly; though I wish to say, in advance, that my
discoveries, though they might justify some suspicion, do not prejudice
me in the least against you. I have no doubt that you will be able to
explain everything." But so spoke not the eyes of the inventor.

"Well, then, to make a short story of this unpleasant affair, I have
watched your promenades in front of Miss Pillbody's school three
afternoons in succession. I will spare you the details, though, so
clearly are your movements back and forth imprinted on my memory, that I
could recount them all to you, if necessary. It is sufficient to say,
that I am forced to believe that my daughter is the magnet which draws
you to that neighborhood, and keeps your eyes riveted on that house.
This is all I have to say on the first point in the letter."

CHAPTER II.

IN VAIN--IN VAIN.

This was Marcus Wilkeson's golden opportunity, and he manfully
determined to seize it. But, as he was on the point of blurting out the
stifled secret, that cold, pale face--which resembled marble in all but
the drops of sweat up