Mostyn frowned. "I have succeeded in keeping my mind off of it fairly well so far," he declared; "but still, if anything of importance has taken place down there I'd like to know it." "Of course, you would," Saunders answered; "and from now on you'd fairly itch to get back to your desk. Oh, I know you!" "Not if everything was all right." There was a touch of rising doubt in Mostyn's voice. Saunders hesitated for a moment, then he said: "I have something for you from--from Marie Winship." He rested the reins in his lap, took a letter from his pocket, and gave it to his companion. It was a small, pale blue envelope addressed in a woman's handwriting. In the lower left-hand corner was written "Personal and important." Mostyn started and his face hardened as he took it. He thrust it clumsily into his pocket. "How did you happen to--to get it?" he asked, almost angrily. "I see it was not mailed." Saunders kept his eyes on the back of the plodding horse. "The truth is, she came to the bank twice to see you--once last week and again yesterday. I managed to see her both times alone in your office. The clerks, I think, failed to notice her. She was greatly upset, and I did what I could to calm her. I'm not good at such things, as you may know. She demanded your address, and, of course, I had to refuse it, and that seemed to make her angry. She is--inclined, Mostyn, to try to make trouble again." Mostyn had paled; his lower lip twitched nervously. "She had better let me alone!" he said, coldly. "I've stood it as long as I intend to." "I don't know anything about it," Saunders returned. "I could not pacify her any other way, and so I promised to deliver her letter. She would have made a scene if I had not. She has heard some way that you are to marry Miss Mitchell, and it was on that line that her threats were made." "Marry? I have never said that I intended to marry--_any one_," Mostyn snarled, a dull, hunted look in his eyes. "I know," Saunders said, still unperturbed, "but you know that the people at large are generally familiar with all that society talks about, and they have had a lot to say about you and that particular young lady. If you wish to read your letter, don't mind me--I--" "I don't want to read it!" Mostyn answered. "I can imagine what's in it. I'll attend to it later. But you have seen her, Saunders, since I have, and you would know whether the situation really is such that--" "To be frank"--Saunders had never spoken more pointedly--"I don't feel, Mostyn, that I ought to become your confidant in exactly such a thing. But through no intention of mine I have been drawn into it--drawn into it, Mostyn, to protect the dignity and credit of the bank. She was about to make a disturbance, and I _had_ to speak to her." "I know--of course, I understand that"--Mostyn's fury robed him from head to foot like a visible garment--"but that is not answering my question."