“Captain,” replied his wife, determinedly, “you have hinted several times about appropriating my private fortune to save yourself from bankruptcy, and I want you to understand distinctly that I object. You know I am going to England soon, and do not want to be bothered by having my private means interfered with.” “All right, Lucy, all right,” replied the captain, but there was a look of genuine disappointment on his face as he spoke. “We will try to get along without calling on you. You see, Hugh, when Mrs. Osborn and I were married, I made her a present of a hundred thousand dollars in government bonds. I collect the interest and place it in her private account, and keep the bonds securely locked in a strong box in our vault.” “That reminds me, Captain,” observed his wife, rather frigidly, “I wish to take my bonds with me when I start for England. I have concluded to deposit them in a New York bank.” The captain made no reply. “When do you expect to start on your European trip?” inquired Hugh. “In six weeks,” replied Mrs. Osborn. “You know Ethel is to be married on the first of September, and we shall start immediately after that notable event. You really must not ask me when I am going to return,” she said, laughing coquettishly. “Lord Avondale has extended such a pressing invitation that I have at last yielded. Mrs. Horton says we may not return for a year.” The next day Doctor Redfield came. His meeting with Hugh was at first a little strained, but soon mellowed into the old-time comradeship. “Why the deuce, Hugh, didn’t you tell me before leaving Chicago, that you were coming to this out-of-the-way frontier town of Meade?” asked Redfield, when they were comfortably seated in Hugh’s room at the hotel. “It certainly was very careless of me not to,” replied Hugh, “and I was likewise very neglectful in not writing to you long before I did. You see, Jack, the frontier was like a new world to me—foil of excitement and money-getting. Why, at one time, before the hot winds came, I supposed that I had at least doubled my fortune, and now,—well, let us not talk about it,—it is practically all gone. I shall not care for the lost fortune, however, if I can only in some small way help to bring you and Ethel together. Ah, Jack, she is indeed a fine character.” Doctor Redfield paced the floor in silence for a few minutes. “I never knew the meaning of the word love, until I met Ethel Horton at Lake Geneva,” he finally said. “My whole heart was, then and there, given to her. I have been waiting the longest year of my life for the letter that never came—a letter that would tell me to come. The destiny marked out for her by her ambitious mother, I fear, has proved stronger than her love. Really, Hugh, did you ever read a more cruel letter than the one Mrs. Horton wrote me?” “Let me see it again,” said Hugh. “I have a suspicion that Mrs. Horton never wrote that letter.” “What do you mean?” asked Jack, in astonishment, as he handed it to Hugh.