"She foolishly promised to elope with me," said Gladwin sweetly, "but when she got here and thought of the shock and grief that her dear aunt might suffer she suddenly changed her mind. I had everything arranged--car waiting, parson waiting, marriage license in my pocket, everything! You see madam, I am the only guilty party. Your niece was the innocent victim of my wiles." Mrs. Burton looked from one to the other in complete bewilderment. Helen could only blush and look confused. The immensity of Gladwin's lie struck her dumb. Sadie was staring at him in open-mouthed amazement. Even Whitney Barnes blinked his eyes and forgot his handcuffs. Travers Gladwin met Mrs. Burton's frowning and perplexed stare with a fatuous smile. At last she turned to Whitney Barnes and asked: "Is he telling the truth?" [Illustration: "HE'S ALMOST AS MADLY IN LOVE WITH HER AS I AM."] "Oh, yes," said Barnes, readily, "and if it hadn't been for me he might have kidnapped her. He's almost as madly in love with her as I am--you will have to excuse me a moment, I think I see that man Ryan." The shackled young man suddenly darted out of the room, followed by Sadie, who seemed irresistibly drawn in his wake. Mrs. Burton looked after them helplessly. A suspicion suddenly flashed in her brain and she turned back to Gladwin. "I feel sure that you are deceiving me," she charged him, "and that that other young man is Travers Gladwin. You can't tell me that his wrists were not handcuffed, for I just saw them." "You are entirely mistaken," Gladwin returned soberly. "If you will kindly step out into the music room I will show you a modest portrait of myself that was painted three years ago by an eminent American artist. Helen you will pardon us for just a moment," and he turned with a broad smile that won him a smile in return, for the humor of the situation had gradually beaten down whatever other emotions stirred in the girl's breast. Like one reluctantly led in a dream, Mrs. Burton allowed Gladwin to escort her into the music room outside and conduct her to a painting that hung in an obscure corner of the room. "Do you think it flatters me?" he asked, as she regarded it dumbly. She looked at him curiously and then back at the portrait, then shook her head and muttered: "There's a mystery here somewhere. You are all banded together in a conspiracy. I do not know whom to believe. But it has gone far enough. We will go back to Omaha to-morrow. I had no idea New York was such a terrible place. Why are all these policemen running about?" "Mainly in your interest," responded Gladwin quickly, "but if you will consent not to send me to jail I will get them out of the house and keep the unhappy termination of my romance out of the newspapers." "Of course, it must not get in the newspapers," cried the horrified Mrs. Burton. "Then, madam, if you will go back to Helen and promise not to be too hard with her I will attend to it."