"DEAR MR. WEBSTER," he read. "The inclosed cutting from the newspaper will tell you what has occurred. This Mr. Temple, whose death it records, is the uncle of John Temple, who is his heir. John Temple is now, therefore, a rich man, and as I am unfortunately his wife, he can not prevent (I suppose) my benefiting by his accession to fortune. But though money is a great thing, an immense thing, it is not everything! John Temple, looking like a ghost, with misery stamped on every feature of his face! There was, I am sure, some strong reason for this, for as a rule he is an easy-going man, inclined to make the best of everything, as he used to think it not worth while to strive with fate. "There I did and do disagree with him. It is worth while at any rate to try and make the best of one's life, and it is not making the best of mine, I think, to remain the wife of a man I never see. He is a rich man now, can afford to pay a long price for his freedom, and his freedom I am certain he desires. What I mean is this: He will now be coming to England, and will, of course, go down to the place he has inherited. I want, therefore, someone to go to him and make him a proposition; to say in fact, Kathleen Weir, the wife of whom you are tired, is also tired of you, and wishes to be free from so galling a tie. I am certain it might be arranged, only it is so difficult to write on such matters, and one can only do so to someone in whom you have complete confidence. I have complete confidence in you, though I have seen so little of you of late, but I think I can understand the reason of this. At all events, will you come to see me now, and we can talk the matter over? Will you come to-morrow evening? I shall be alone, as I have a whole host of things to tell you. "Ever sincerely yours, "KATHLEEN WEIR." Webster read this letter, and at once understood its meaning. Kathleen Weir wished to be free, and she believed that John Temple had given her cause to seek a divorce, and that if she were anxious to obtain one, that he would offer no opposition; nay, gladly aid her in her desire. She also meant, and Webster smiled a little scornfully as he thought this, that she intended to make him pay for his freedom. They were to play into each other's hands in fact, and she wished some confidential friend or agent to approach him on the subject. "I wonder if she intends this honor for me," he reflected, bitterly. And he thought of May Churchill with a quick pang of pain. If this woman could obtain a divorce, and would accept money to be divorced, which no doubt John Temple would gladly pay, he would be free to marry May. Webster bit his lips and frowned angrily at this idea. This no doubt was Kathleen Weir's design; she would not scruple, she had said, to invent a charge of cruelty against him, and for the rest she had a perfectly good case.