"Don't speak of him," cried Gertrude with a shudder. "Oh, dear me, I never would have believed that my father would act so wickedly." "Oh, I don't think he acted so _very_ wickedly," said Cannington generously, and to set her at her ease; "he changed his name legally enough, and was a wealthy man, as we know. All he did was to suppress--for obvious reasons--the fact that he possessed so charming a daughter." "Well, it doesn't matter now," I broke in impatiently, for every mention of her father brought sorrow to Gertrude's face. "Monk or Marr, or whatever he chooses to call himself, is over the seas, and won't come back. Gertrude to-morrow takes my name and my good fortune. Also Mabel is to marry Dicky in three months, so that ends everything." "Except Dicky's desire to conquer the air," said Cannington, smiling. "He is awfully cut up over the failure of his last attempt. He wants to begin and build another vessel straight away. But Mab swears she will not marry him if he doesn't promise to leave airships alone for at least twelve months after she becomes his wife." "That," said I gravely, "will give Dicky time to invent something worth talking about. I thought his airship was rotten myself. It failed in every point. Much better for him to keep his money and not waste it." "Oh, Mab will see to that," said Cannington lightly. "But see, Miss Monk wishes to speak to you, Vance. What's up?" "Cyrus," said Gertrude quietly, and producing a letter, "and you, Lord Cannington, I received this," she tapped the letter, "from my father by this morning's post." "Oh, my sainted aunt!" cried Cannington vivaciously, "what's it about. But perhaps," he rose to his feet, "you don't want to tell me. I'll go to the smoking-room while you talk to Vance here." Gertrude put out a detaining hand. "No, don't go, Lord Cannington. I know that Cyrus has no secrets from you. I wish both of you to hear what became of the diamonds which caused all the trouble." "I believe that Striver has them," I said firmly. "I believe that Miss Destiny got them," said Cannington, nodding. "You are both wrong," replied Gertrude with strange composure, "my father possessed the diamonds." "Your father! Never!" we exclaimed, quite amazed by the speech. "My father," went on Gertrude with a firmness of which I had not deemed her capable, considering what she had come through, "found a copy of the drawing on the silver piece in Mrs. Caldershaw's false eye amongst the papers of his brother shortly after Uncle Gabriel's death. He soon discovered the secret, which I wonder Aunt Julia did not find out, so easy did it appear to be." "She was less clever than wicked," I said quickly. "Does your father tell you that in the letter, Gertrude?" "Yes," she said, with a heavy sigh. "He heard from his lawyers, to whom I gave notice that I was to marry you, Cyrus, and he writes," she shivered, "to send me his blessing." "Oh, Lord!" This was from Cannington, who apologized.