“I shall hunt up that old hermit’s retreat to-day,” Everet Mapleson said, as he awoke the next morning. “I want to see for myself just how and where he lived. I begin to find these researches into the past somewhat interesting, if perplexing. I enjoy real romances, but not unfinished ones. I like to be able to complete a story, and have all the characters definitely disposed of. It begins to look, though, as if Miss Annie Dale was a lost heroine, and like the celebrated ‘Lost Chord,’ never likely to be recovered or accounted for. “So this queer old character, Robert Dale, was her mother’s lover?” he resumed, as he began to dress. “How strangely things get mixed in this world. Why can’t people always love the right ones, and escape all this jealousy and disappointment? Nannie Davenport’s story is likely to be repeated in this generation. Oh, Gladys, why couldn’t you have loved me instead of that mysterious personage who seems to have won your favor? I could have given you an honorable name, wealth, and a proud position in life, while he has literally nothing to offer you. But,” his face assuming a stony expression, “I will not give you up even now! I will move mountains to accomplish my purpose, and you shall yet be Gladys Mapleson!” After breakfasting, the young man ordered his horse to be saddled, and after inquiring of the groom the way to the “Dale Hermitage,” as the recluse’s home was called, he mounted and rode away toward the forest, in the depths of which Robert Dale had spent so many years of his life. It was a long ride, though a delightful one, through the spicy pine woods and over the grass-grown cart-path, where only mule teams passed now and then in hauling great logs to market. It was nearly noon when Everet came in sight of the Hermitage, and he found it not such a rude affair, after all, as he had pictured in his imagination from the descriptions he had heard of it. He saw that it must have been quite an expensive structure, for it was built mostly of stone, while every bit of the work had been done in the most thorough manner. It made quite a pretty picture, standing there beneath two huge pine trees, and with the glossy ivy climbing thickly all about its rough walls, hanging in graceful festoons from the overlapping eaves and the mullioned windows. It was composed of but one story, and a couple of granite steps led up to the one door, which was set in the center of the structure. This was not locked, and entering, Everet found himself in a narrow hall, which divided the building through the middle, and was lighted by a window at the other end. On each side there were two rooms. On the right was what appeared to have been the cooking and eating-room, for a great dresser had been built upon one side; a wide fire-place, with andirons and an old-fashioned crane, was opposite the entrance, and a small table, with two chairs, stood in the center of the room.