"Yes--a note saying the marriage was impossible, though her love was unaltered, and that Curtiss wasn't to attempt to find her." Godfrey sat suddenly upright with grim countenance. "Then there's only one explanation of it," he said. "There's only one thing could make a girl drop everything and run away like that--only one thing in the world. She's already married, and her first husband's turned up." "I'd thought of that, too; but her mother swears her daughter never had a love affair previous to this one." "Of course she'd say so. Has any other possible explanation occurred to you?" "No," I answered frankly. "And I've tried mighty hard to find another." "Let's go back a bit. The discovery--whatever it was--was made at the last moment." "Yes--at the moment she left the decorator and started upstairs to get her veil." "Was it made accidentally?" "I don't know." "But I do. It was _not_ accidentally--it was by design. Things don't happen accidentally, just in the nick of time." "No," I agreed, "they don't." "It was his revenge," continued Godfrey, with growing excitement. "He wanted to get even, and he waited till the last moment. It was certainly artistic." "If he really wanted to crush her," I suggested, my lips trembling with the horror of the thought, "he'd have waited a little longer." Godfrey stared at me with glittering eyes. "You're right," he agreed, after a moment. "He didn't want to get even, then; he wanted her back. So he sent a letter----" "It wasn't a letter. Perhaps it was a telegram." "No, it wasn't a telegram--I looked that up. Are you sure it wasn't a letter?" "Yes. The morning mail was delivered shortly after nine. She was happy as usual until the moment of her disappearance, two hours later. If it wasn't a letter or a telegram, he must have come in person." Godfrey sat for a moment with intent face. "I hardly think so," he said, at last. "Some one would have noticed a stranger, and I made special inquiries on that point, though it was a lover I was looking for, not a husband. I rather imagined that there was another man in the case, and that, at the last moment, she decided to marry him and ran away to do it." "No," I said decidedly, "she was in love with Curtiss--passionately in love with him." "Well, lover or husband, I don't believe he came in person. I think it much more probable that the warning came from inside the house." "From the maid," I suggested. "Precisely," he nodded. "From the maid." Then, suddenly, I recalled the sweet face, the clear gaze---- "It's a pretty theory, Godfrey," I said; "but I don't believe it. Have you ever seen Miss Lawrence?" "No--not even her photograph. I tried to get one and failed," he added, with rueful countenance. "She's a beautiful woman--she's more than that--she's a good woman. There's something Madonna-like about her."