"Because I was watching you when you first heard of the robbery. Ah, my nephew John, I fear you are not as good as you look." "You have a most brilliant imagination, my handsome aunt!" "Do not call me by that odious name! But perhaps I have more discernment than you give me credit for." "I gave you credit for every good quality; discernment among the rest." Mrs. Temple nodded her head and stood by his side looking down at his face. She saw he was more annoyed than he cared to show. And she knew there must be some cause for this, for as a rule John Temple was very even tempered. But she did not say anything more about the diamonds, and after a moment or two she turned away, and John Temple was left to his own reflections. His expression changed after she left the room, and he frowned, stirred uneasily, and once more read over the evidence given at Miss Kathleen Weir's jewel case. And a bitter look came over his face as he did so; a look of contempt and scorn, and flinging down the newspaper he went to the window of the room, and stood looking out moodily at the wide park, which one day would be his own. "I have paid pretty heavily for a boy's folly," he muttered, "and some day, my sweet flower, it may fall on you." And this thought stung him sharply. He loved his Mayflower, as he called her, with a true and passionate love, and he would have given up almost anything for her sake. Her beauty, her tenderness, and her devotion to himself had entirely won his heart. Before he had met May Churchill he had been almost indifferent to the consequences of the "boy's folly," which now galled him so deeply. But he little guessed how near the shadow of it was stealing across his path. Yet this knowledge came to him only a day later after the conversation about the actress' demands had taken place between himself and his uncle's wife. He went down to breakfast on this particular morning rather earlier than usual, but the letters and newspapers had already arrived, and placed near his usual seat at the table was a large letter directed in the now well-known handwriting of Miss Webster. He knew that this would contain an inclosure from May, and so he quietly put the envelope into his pocket without any comment. "More bills?" said Mrs. Temple, looking at him with a curious little smile. "I am afraid so," he answered, and his uncle glanced up at him over his newspaper with some uneasiness in his expression as he spoke. John Temple, however, did not seem at all disconcerted. He was always glad to hear from May, and the very fact that he had a letter in his pocket from her gave him a feeling of quiet happiness. He, therefore, talked cheerfully during the rest of the meal, but as soon as it was over he left the room, carrying his letters away with him, and Mrs. Temple looked after him as he went.