To Mrs. Duke a millionaire was a living crime. Want, perpetually barking at her heels, gave her no charity of feeling toward the rich man--his kith or his kin. She likened such men to a huge net stretched across the river of life to which human souls were drawn unerringly by man-made currents, until caught in the meshes and held in despair. Naught but death could come to their rescue. To her, the knowledge that a man of William Parkins' goodness of heart could be accounted a chattel of the great Villard was unthinkable. As she walked along among rare trees and flowered bushes her heart turned cold and her eyes dilated indignation at the inequality of human destinies. Had she but known the man, his kindly nature, his open purse, and great benefactions, her hatred of Drury Villard would have been turned into admiration. Good woman that she was, her intuition had failed her in her estimate of Parkins' veracity. She had yet to learn the depravity of the man, who, by the mere use of five magic words--"one thousand dollars in cash"--had won her hatred toward the best friend he ever had. So far as Mrs. Duke was concerned it was easy to meet up with Winifred Barbour. The girl loved to look upon the waters of the bay, and during her convalescing days she sat for hours on the sands of the beach and breathed the ozone borne in upon the breezes from the great Atlantic. She had wondered about Parkins, still bedfast, but no inkling had come to her ears of his perfidious intentions toward herself. No gentleman of Villard's high ideals would have failed to shield the innocent young woman from a knowledge of the perfidy of the man--but the nurse had not been taken into account. Mrs. Duke instinctively knew Winifred at first glance. There she was seated upon the sands, gracefully poised and tossing pebbles into the waves. "Why, bless me!--aren't you Winifred Barbour of Patchogue?" inquired Mrs. Duke, smiling down upon the girl. "Yes, that is my name, and Patchogue is my home. Won't you sit down and listen to the roaring tide coming in? I adore the splashing of the waves! I do not remember meeting you before," she added, as if in apology. "Indeed, I will sit down--it is such a charming spot. You would hardly remember me, for I left Patchogue years ago, when you were a very sweet little girl. I begin to recall your features. I am Mrs. Duke." "Do you live in this vicinity, Mrs. Duke?" asked Winifred, politely. "No, indeed, sorry as I am to say it. I'm too poor for that--I am at Mr. Sawyer's at present," said she, as if it didn't matter particularly where she was. "Oh, indeed! Some one ill there?" "Yes, but improving very fast. It's a man, thank goodness--a brave man, too. I seem to prefer to nurse a man, for they are so much more patient than women. Not so delicate, you know, and they have more fortitude. But I must confess I've nursed women, too, who were remarkable!" exclaimed Mrs. Duke. "Do you live hereabouts?" she asked in a naïve sort of way.