Mr. Ray listened eagerly. These were his own thoughts put in words. He was glad, indeed, that she coincided so completely. “I promised loyally and honestly,” he murmured, after a minute, “but I did not dream that I was marrying a dual character. I wrecked my whole life by one error. Oh, can I ever undo it?” “I certainly should try,” said Marion, stoutly. “You are too young and too—too noble to be tied to such a woman.” The carriage halted as Marion spoke, and Mr. Ray glanced out of the window to see what was the matter. “We are right in front of the Morgue,” said Marion, looking out. “Oh, I see what is stopping us; they are loading up the dead wagon.” Her companion shivered as he saw a wagon load of pine coffins about ten feet ahead of them. “What a horrible place!” he said. “Have you ever been in there?” “No, but I’d like to go if there is time,” said Marion, quickly. “And I am quite sure there is. The boat does not leave until eleven.” Mr. Ray spoke to the driver and then helped Marion out. At the same moment another carriage rolled up and stopped directly before the entrance. “It is Mr. Atherton, Dollie’s employer!” Marion whispered, as she drew back suddenly. A man had stepped from the other carriage and gone into the Morgue. She knew him instantly, although his back was toward her. Archie Ray hardly heard the young girl’s next words. He was staring after the lawyer with a dazed expression. “He is the old lawyer who is Dollie’s employer,” Marion said again, “and he’s a regular _roué_, if I am any judge. Why, do you know, he took Dollie to luncheon one day and would have taken her to a matinee if I had not stopped it.” “Is it possible?” said Mr. Ray, coming back to her words, with a start. “Why, that man is my father-in-law. He is the father of my wife. Has not his own daughter’s career made him more merciful of other maidens?” Marion was shocked at his news, but there was no time to reply. The next moment they were in the dingy home of the dead, gazing around them with curiosity. “He did not see us,” whispered Marion, as the lawyer went out again. “And I am very glad, for I should not care to speak to him.” “Dead John,” the keeper, came in at that moment. He was a little impatient as he looked at his visitors. “Be yees lookin’ fer any one in perteckeler?” he asked, crossly, “fer if yees ain’t, it ain’t no time ter be comin’ in wen I’m busy.” “What was he looking for?” asked Mr. Ray, pointing after the lawyer. “You were civil enough to him, even if you were busy.” The man shook his head and became suddenly better natured. “He’s lookin’ fer his gal, he sez,” was his answer. “He ain’t seen her fer years an’ he comes here lookin’ every mornin’.” “That’s a queer combination,” said Mr. Ray, as he put Marion back into the carriage. “A man who is always hunting the Morgue on the lookout for his own wayward one, yet never losing a chance to wrong some other man’s daughter.”