"Yes, telegraph him that the money is on the way to him," Mostyn said. Marie sank into a chair opposite him and rested her tousled head on her crossed arms. A trembling sob escaped her, and she looked up. He saw tears filling her eyes. "After all, I may not be so very, very bad," she said, "for this will be a merciful act, and it comes through my knowing you." "But it must be the end, Marie," he urged, firmly. "It is costing me more than you can know, but I must positively be free." "I know it," she answered. "I will let you alone, Dick. You may marry--you may do as you like from now on." "Then it is positively settled," he said, a new light flaring in his eyes. "For good and all, we understand each other." "Yes, for good and all," she repeated, her glance on the floor. A moment later he was in the street. The sun had never shown more brightly, the sky had never seemed so fathomless and blue. He inhaled a deep breath. He felt as if he were swimming through the air. "Free, free!" he chuckled, "free at last!" Reaching the bank, he was about to enter when he met, coming out, a dark, straight-haired, beardless young man who promptly grasped his hand. It was Alan Delbridge. "Hello!" Delbridge said, with a laugh. "Glad to see you back. You look better. The wild woods have put new life in you. I knew you'd come as soon as the Mitchells got home." "It wasn't that," Mostyn said, lamely. "Oh, of course not," Delbridge laughed. "You were not at all curious to learn the particulars of the old chap's big deal--oh no, you are not that sort! A hundred or two thousand to the credit of a fellow's fiancee doesn't amount to anything with a plunger like you." Mostyn laid a hesitating hand on the shoulder of the other. "Say, Delbridge," he faltered, "this sort of thing has gone far enough. I am not engaged to the young lady in question, and--" "Oh, come off!" Delbridge's laugh was even more persistent. "Tell that to some one else. You see, I _know_. The old man confides in me--not in just so many words, you know, but he lets me understand. He says you and he are going to put some whopping big deals through, presumably after you take up your quarters under his vine and fig tree." Mostyn started to protest further, but with another laugh the financier was off. "Ten thousand dollars!" he thought, as he moved on. "He speaks of my business head; what would he think of the investment I have just made? He would call me a weakling. That is what I am. I have always been one. The woman doesn't live who could worry him for a minute. But it is ended now. I have had my lesson, and I sha'n't forget it."