“No, no, my friend. You forget that all four are young Americans. The honeymoons in Spain, if you like. But the weddings in California, please.” “So be it,” he answered. “Then if I cannot get back for the wedding bells, we may have a family reunion during the honeymoons.” He laughed almost gaily as he rose. “Now, where are our young Americans? I wish to say good-bye to them, too.” “Where Dick Willoughby is, I cannot say. But he is safe—you still assure me of his safety, Mr. Robles?” “Assuredly. And I have good news for our dear Merle. Tomorrow Willoughby will be free, with every suspicion removed from his name.” “Oh, that will be glad tidings indeed for Merle—for both the girls.” “Then let us take the news to them. Where shall we find them?” “As usual, I fancy, in their favorite cosy corner. And Mr. Munson is here, too. He is to have luncheon with us. He said you had given him a day off from his onerous library duties.” “Quite correct. I told him I would meet him here, for I have a message for him as well. Come then, let us join the young people.” Again, like the courtly hidalgo, he presented a hand to his hostess and led her from the room. CHAPTER XXXIV—Heart Searchings AS Mrs. Darlington had anticipated, the trio of young Americans were discovered in the cosy corner. Grace and Munson were engaged in a tête-à -tête that was obviously very delightful to themselves, while Merle at a discreet distance was busily engaged in watering the pot plants and flowers. She was the first to sound a note of warning. “Here comes mother, and Mr. Robles, also, I do declare.” The young lovers started a little apart, and Grace in a moment was demurely busy over a bit of sewing that had been resting undisturbed in her lap during the previous half hour. Merle advanced toward Mr. Robles. “This is delightful,” she exclaimed, as she warmly shook hands. “You will stay to luncheon, of course.” “No, my dear. This is to be only a brief visit, I am sorry to say.” Grace had also come forward, and he saluted her in his usual quiet, kindly manner. But for Munson he had a word of sly banter. “Better than drilling a squad or cataloguing musty old books,” he remarked, bestowing a significant side glance in Grace’s direction. “Infinitely better,” replied the ex-soldier and amateur librarian, with frank and unabashed satisfaction. Mr. Robles took a seat close to Merle. “I came to bring you two pieces of news,” he said, taking her hand, yet addressing his words to all the company. “First and foremost, by tomorrow the charge against Dick Willoughby will be withdrawn, and he will be a free man.” “Oh, that is good news indeed,” cried Merle, fairly hugging its bearer. “Then they have at last discovered the murderer of young Thurston?” enquired Munson in a tone of eager satisfaction. “Yes, or rather he has discovered himself, I believe. Oh, you need not ask me for the name. It will only be made public when Willoughby formally claims his liberty.”