ellous contrast to
what had surrounded me at home. You were right in your surmise that my
wife is a lady, and that I have been born a gentleman. And now I will
tell you why we are both here."

Then, in broken words, with long pauses between, he told her the story
of his own and Lady Barbara's home life, and of Dalton's perfidy with
all the horror that had followed, Kitty's body bent forward, her ears
drinking in every word, her plump, ruddy hands resting in her lap, her
heart throbbing with sympathy for the man who sat there so calm and
patient, stating his case without bitterness, his anger only rising when
he recounted the incidents leading up to his wife's estrangement and
denounced the man who had planned her ruin.

Only when the tale was ended did she burst out: "And I ain't surprised
yer heart's broke! Ye've had enough to kill ye. The wonder to me is that
ye're walkin' around with yer head up and your heart not soured. I been
thinkin' and thinkin' all these months, and John and I have talked it
over many a night; but we never thought it was as bad as it is. And now
I'm goin' to ask ye a question and ye must tell me the truth. What are
ye goin' to do next?"

"See Father Cruse to-night and tell him what I have found out. He must
do the rest. I have gone as far as I dared, and can go no further.
I must draw the line at crime. In spite of it all, I would have gone
down-stairs to see her, had she not been sent away, but I am glad now
that I did not. She comes of a proud race and that would have been the
last thing she could have borne. As it is, she thinks I am in Australia,
and it's better that she should. She would have thought I had come to
taunt her, and no one could have undeceived her. I know her--and her
wilfulness. Poor child! She has always been her own worst enemy. And
so, just as soon as I learn what is to happen to her, I shall settle my
account with the man who has caused her ruin, and return to England--and
I can go the easier, and pick up my old life again the better, if I can
be assured that you will look after little Masie, and see that no harm
comes to her."

Kitty raised her hands from her lap and folded them across her bosom.
"Let me talk a little, will ye, Mr. O'Day? Ye needn't worry about Masie.
I'll take care of her--all that Kling will let me. I knew her mother,
who died when the child was born, and a fine woman she was--ten times as
good as Kling whom her father made her marry. But there's