"I insist upon nothing," said Cora, rising, "and I have not time for many more words. Let us come to the point at once: With my life, after I left you, you have nothing to do; you know nothing of it now, and you will learn no more from me. Of you, I know this much. I know that you clung, after your fashion, to the skirts of your unfortunate wife, spending her income and making her life miserable. I know that six years ago you inherited a fortune from a distant relative. I know that from that time you utterly neglected your wife, who had been an invalid for years; and that soon after she died, heart-broken and alone." Percy turned upon her, and scrutinized her face keenly; then, coming close to her, said, meaningly: "And then I wonder that you did not come back to me." For a moment the woman seemed confused, and off her guard. But she had not sought an interview with this man without fully reviewing her ground. "I had ceased to care for you," she said, lifting her unflinching eyes to his face; "and I did not need your money. Come, enough of the past; you have squandered your fortune, and now you want another. You want to put yourself still more into my power by marrying a third wife--so be it; I consent." "Not so fast. You are first to promise me to place in my hands, on my 'marriage morn,' those unpleasant little documents which you hold against me. In return for which you will receive a sum of money, the amount of said sum to be hereafter arranged. Then we go our separate ways." "And if I refuse?" "Then, painful as it is, I must do my duty. You are to give me your answer when I return to Bellair; no time for tricks, mind. If the answer is no, then I interview Mr. John Arthur." "And you return?--" "The day after to-morrow." "Then you shall have my answer. Until then--" She swept him a stately courtesy, which he returned with a most elaborate bow. Without another word from either, they separated; she gliding swiftly and silently toward the house, he going once more in the direction of Bellair village. * * * * * How long she had slept it never afterward occurred to Miss Arthur to inquire. Something recalled her from the land of visions, and starting up in her chair she saw Celine, standing demurely before her, her face wreathed in smiles, and no signs of any uncanny adventure lingering about her. Beholding her safe and sound Miss Arthur began to pour out upon the luckless head of Celine, the vials of wrath prepared for her benefit. The girl listened with a face indicative of some secret source of amusement. Noting her look of evident unconcern, and the laughter she seemed vainly striving to keep under, Miss Arthur brought her tirade to an abrupt termination, and demanded to know what Miss Celine Leroque saw, in her appearance, that was so very ludicrous.