“TUCKER.—_If this should meet the eye of Charles Tucker, who knew Amelia Wyborn twenty-five years ago, he will hear of something greatly to his advantage by communicating with N. C., Royal Hotel, Northtown._” Mrs. Bowman found speech at last. “N. C.—Nathaniel Clark,” she said, in broken tones. “So that is where he went last month. Oh, what a fool I’ve been! Oh, what a simple fool!” Mr. Tucker gave a deprecatory cough. “I—I had forgotten it was there,” he said, nervously. “Yes,” breathed the widow, “I can quite believe that.” “I was going to show you later on,” declared the other, regarding her carefully. “I was, really. I couldn’t bear the idea of keeping a secret from you long.” [Illustration: “‘I had forgotten it was there,’ he said, nervously.”] Mrs. Bowman smiled—a terrible smile. “The audacity of the man,” she broke out, “to stand there and lecture me on my behavior. To talk about his spoilt life, and all the time—” She got up and walked about the room, angrily brushing aside the proffered attentions of Mr. Tucker. “Laughing-stock of Trimington, is he?” she stormed. “He shall be more than that before I have done with him. The wickedness of the man; the artfulness!” “That’s what I thought,” said Mr. Tucker, shaking his head. “I said to him—” “You’re as bad,” said the widow, turning on him fiercely. “All the time you two men were talking at each other you were laughing in your sleeves at me. And I sat there like a child taking it all in. I’ve no doubt you met every night and arranged what you were to do next day.” Mr. Tucker’s lips twitched. “I would do more than that to win you, Amelia,” he said, humbly. “You’ll have to,” was the grim reply. “Now I want to hear all about this from the beginning. And don’t keep anything from me, or it’ll be the worse for you.” She sat down again and motioned him to proceed. “When I saw the advertisement in the _Northtown Chronicle_,” began Mr. Tucker, in husky voice, “I danced with—” “Never mind about that,” interrupted the widow, dryly. “I went to the hotel and saw Mr. Clark,” resumed Mr. Tucker, somewhat crestfallen. “When I heard that you were a widow, all the old times came back to me again. The years fell from me like a mantle. Once again I saw myself walking with you over the footpath to Cooper’s farm; once again I felt your hand in mine. Your voice sounded in my ears—” “You saw Mr. Clark,” the widow reminded him. “He had heard all about our early love from you,” said Mr. Tucker, “and as a last desperate chance for freedom he had come down to try and hunt me up, and induce me to take you off his hands.” Mrs. Bowman uttered a smothered exclamation. “He tempted me for two days,” said Mr. Tucker, gravely. “The temptation was too great and I fell. Besides that, I wanted to rescue you from the clutches of such a man.” “Why didn’t he tell me himself?” inquired the widow.