She had kept herself informed of affairs at Oakley. Then she must have known of the fact that the so-called brother of John Arthur's wife was Lucian Davlin. She must have known that. Of course she knew it. Did not her manner on the evening of her arrival prove that? Not for one instant did she lose her self-possession. Had his presence been unexpected, she could hardly have restrained every sign of emotion, of recognition. Clearly, she was prepared for their meeting. Ah! now he was getting at things. If she came to Oakley, knowing him to be established there as a member of the family, she came _expecting_ to meet him. She was not afraid of him, then. She was not averse to meeting him. Perhaps--he began to think it highly probable--she came solely to meet him. If so, did she come for love, or--for revenge? If she came for revenge why did she not denounce him? But no, she would hardly do that. What woman would? But she might have assumed toward him a more hostile attitude. Finally, his masculine vanity helped him to a conclusion. A woman seldom forgets her first love so easily, and he could meet her so differently now. She had _not_ forgotten her love for him. He could win it back, and her forgiveness with it. And then--then, if he could but manage Cora, what would hinder him from marrying her, and being in clover ever after! He was tired of roving; they could go to the city; he need not give up gaming, and--he really loved the girl; had loved her since the day she had escaped from his snare. Having arrived at this stage in his day-dream, he began to feel buoyant. And when he heard from the Professor the result of Madeline's visit to her step-father, his complacency was at high tide. "It's all in a nutshell to me," said the Professor, as they smoked their confidential cigars in the privacy of Lucian's own room. "Mind, I don't suppose she _is_ up to our game; she can't be, you know; but she is pretty thoroughly convinced that what she thinks is his insanity, is but temporary." "How do you know that?" interrupted Lucian, sharply. "Not from anything _she_ said; I had very few words with her. But look here, Davlin, isn't this a clear case enough? When I went up to see the old fool, after their interview, I find him in a paroxysm of rage. Of course he makes his complaint; his _ravings_ informed me of this: She told him that she did not really think him very crazy herself, but two doctors _did_, and she didn't feel called to dispute them. She told him that he could not prove himself sane in any court in America; and that he, being insane, was dead in law; and she was going to choose another guardian." Lucian Davlin fairly bounded from the chair. "That's it!" he ejaculated under his breath.