"Yes, darling, I have made you the sole heir to all my wealth," answered the old man, drawing his arm around her shrinking form. "But perhaps you will wish the old man dead, now, that you may enjoy his money without any incumbrance." "Oh! no," she exclaimed quickly, for something in his words touched her heart, and made her forget for a moment that cruel blow from his hand. "Oh! no, I shall never wish you dead, and I thank you a thousand times for your generosity." "Then you forgive me for my--for that--to-day?" he inquired in a flighty, half-frightened way, fixing his dim eyes on her beautiful face with an anxious expression. "Yes, I forgive you freely," she said, touched again, as she scarcely thought she could be, by his looks and tones, and yet longing to get away, for she was half-frightened by a certain inexplicable wildness about him. "And now I must go and dress for dinner." "Wait, I have not done with you yet," he said, catching her tightly around the wrist, his restlessness increasing. "I saw my nephew on the street, and brought him home with me to dinner. Do you care, Xenie?" "No, I do not care," she answered, steadily, yet her heart gave a great passionate throb of bitter anger. Still holding her tightly by the hand he pulled open the door and sent his voice ringing loudly down the hall. "Howard, Howard, come here!" Xenie heard the distant door of the library unclose, then shut again, and a man's footsteps ringing along the marble hall. She tried to wrench her hand away and flee, but it was useless. He held her as in a vise. "Let me go," she panted, "my hair is down, my dress is disarranged, my face is disfigured, I do not wish to meet him." But he held her tightly, gnashing his teeth in sudden rage at her efforts to escape. At that moment Howard Templeton entered the room. He started back as his gaze encountered Mrs. St. John's, then with a cold bow stood still, turning an inquiring glance upon his uncle's excited face. "I want you to take a glass of wine with me, Howard," said his uncle in a cordial tone. "Xenie, my love, you will pour the wine for us." He led her forward, to the little marble-topped table where stood the wine and glasses. She saw that the corks were both drawn from the bottles, and taking up one she poured some of its contents into the richly-chased glass beside it. "Now pour from the second bottle into the second glass," commanded her husband. Xenie silently obeyed him, without a thought as to the strangeness of the request, for her heart was beating almost to suffocation with the bitter consciousness of her enemy's presence. Mr. St. John watched her every motion with a strange, repressed excitement. His eyes glittered, his lips worked as if he were talking to himself. He nodded to his nephew as she stepped back. "Let us drink long life and happiness to Mrs. St. John," he said. Howard Templeton took one glass, and his uncle took the remaining one.