Vreeland was moodily regarding the falling snow through the darkened panes when Jimmy Potter sighed and said: “Well, it’s good-by, old fellow. I’ve got an expert with Wolfe going over the real honest debts. “I shall stay over there, advise with Alida and see that the sufferers get their money. For she has been a wifely sacrifice; she is high-spirited and true, she outclassed Hathorn. Mrs. Willoughby set him up, and then threw him down. “His pride never got over her ruin of his firm’s reputation by drawing all her business out. “Of course, the society snakes who poisoned the young wife’s mind brought on the social catastrophe. I would like to feel that Elaine Willoughby did not betray that poor young woman. But I’ll square it all by and by.” “How?” eagerly demanded Vreeland. Potter was brave in a mad resolve. The young millionaire paused, hat and umbrella in hand. “I have found a business in life at last. One that suits me. “If Alida Hathorn has not money enough to square all the honest claims, _I have_. For a year and a day from Hathorn’s death, I shall marry her, and then give her a woman’s decent happiness. “It was a false ambition that pushed Hathorn into her circle. He was only a good-looking upstart, and never worthy of her. “So, you can see all comes around to the man who waits. “Now, I count on your sense of manliness to protect the name of Fred Hathorn’s widow, the woman who will be my wife, for, with all your money, you would not be in New York to-day, as you are, at the top of the ladder but for Hathorn. “You stand in his shoes up at Lakemere, here in the Circassia, and you of all men, should be considerate to his memory.” The scheming liar bowed his head in a speechless agitation. Vreeland escorted his visitor to the stair. “If I need any private tip, I may use you,” said Potter. “I’ll be at Hotel Vendôme, Paris, till I have made her Mrs. Jimmy Potter, if we live.” With a last touch of his old lightness, the champion of the absent Alida whispered, “That’s a young goddess you have captured.” Potter had observed the Bona Dea. Vreeland frowned gravely as he followed the furtive gesture. “Miss Garland has entire charge of all the books and records of my private estate,” he coldly said. “I am a man of system and order. The other little woman is my private telegraph operator. She is a part of our ‘business force.’” Vreeland affected the careworn millionaire. “Ah, you don’t mix up the two affairs. Very good, very good,” complacently said Potter as he disappeared, leaving Vreeland startled. He bore away fruitful memories of Vreeland’s downcast hesitation. The hard-hearted schemer took a pull at the brandy bottle. “It was a close shave,” he murmured. “Alida Hathorn is game to the very last. She has not given him my name, and now, as she will finally drift into this fortunate marriage, the Lady of the Red Rose will be only a buried memory.