“I can bear no resentment against your clever detective, Mr. Rodney. I am glad now that the truth has been found out. A burden is lifted from my heart.” “You are not angry with Mr. Lane for his bold invasion of your house, and his betrayal of your secret?” exclaimed Mr. Rodney. “No, I am not angry. I am glad that the truth has been revealed. I feel quite curious to see your Mr. Lane.” “Perhaps you will permit me to bring him to see you?” said the lawyer. “Willingly,” answered Oran Delaney. He did so the next day, after he had told Mr. Delaney’s story to him, and the good-looking detective spent an hour with the wounded man. Mr. Delaney was most anxious that Aline should be found. “Only find her,” he said, earnestly, to Mr. Lane, “and you shall name your own reward.” A strange expression gleamed in the eyes of the detective. “I shall make every effort to find her,” he said. “But I tell you frankly, Mr. Delaney, I am not working up this case for money.” “Of course you have a professional interest and reputation at stake,” said Mr. Delaney. “It is not that, either,” said the detective. They gazed steadily into each other’s eyes. “I will tell you the truth, Mr. Delaney,” said Mr. Lane. “I find that my early professional interest in this case has merged into a romantic one. People call me a woman-hater where I am best known, and I confess that female society has hitherto had no charms for me. But the beauty and sweetness of Miss Rodney have won my heart. If I find her I shall ask no reward from her father except her hand, if she will give it to me.” Mr. Lane paused and waited for a reply. He did not dream what an agonizing pang tore through Oran Delaney’s heart in that moment. “Do you think she loves you, Mr. Lane?” he faltered then, in a hollow voice. “Scarcely; for I have had no chance to woo her,” said Mr. Lane. “And yet it is so much better that she should marry that perhaps she will waive that consideration. Afterward I could teach her to love me.” Again that fierce, jealous pang tore through Oran Delaney’s heart. A vision came over him of the beautiful young face and the violet eyes with their shady lashes of deepest jet. How much more beautiful it would be when the woman’s heart was awakened in her. How that charming face would be glorified by love! “Ah, Heaven, only to call her mine!” he groaned to himself. “It is cruel, cruel, that this man should take advantage of her trouble to try to win her. He has no right to her. She is far above him. Her beauty and sweetness make her the peer of any one in the land.” He silently repeated some lines to himself: “A king might lay his scepter down, But I am poor and naught; The brow should wear a golden crown That wears her in its thought.” He looked fixedly at Mr. Lane. “Why do you say that it will be better for Miss Rodney to marry?” he asked, slowly.