You might say that I could have taken a more simple way. I don’t see how. I was afraid of losing my wealthy fiancée and so I would not risk the least chance of Lucille’s telling. Of course I could have claimed blackmail and been declared innocent, yet, knowing the nature of the woman I was hoping to marry, I would not risk the effect it would have on her. There seemed only one thing to do, and I did it. I had Lucille write an order for a dress, from my dictation, inclosing the measurements and stating that it would be called for on a certain date. Personally I went to different stores and bought the garments necessary to make a perfect outfit. I did not spare expense. I brought everything home with me in the coupé. This relieved me of necessity of giving any address or name, which made me feel sure the articles could not be traced to their destination. During this time Lucille was very happy, notwithstanding her imprisonment. She was constantly planning what she would do when we were married. She dwelt in delight on the sensation her marriage would create among those who knew her. She discussed the localities most suitable for us to live in, and talked of things she intended to buy for her house and the dresses she meant to get. It is useless to try to describe the emotions I labored under during those days. I was conscious of a tiredness, underlaid with a stolid determination not to be balked in my purpose. I felt no sympathy for Lucille. I think I was absolutely without feeling one way or the other. I only felt a desire to laugh at her air castles as she told them to me. Not amused--no. I can’t say what the feeling was. Even when she lay awake some nights and I knew she was painting her future, I laughed aloud at the strangeness of it all. I counted the nights. Every one found my preparations nearer completion. Carefully I removed all trade marks and names from every garment I had bought her. The gloves and _Suéde_ shoes only bore their size. I took the crown lining out of the hat, and before I brought her dress home I removed the inside belt, which was stamped with the name of the man who made it. The dress was the last article but one I brought to my apartment. I did not even show myself at the establishment where the gown was made. I drove near the place, and, hiring a messenger boy, sent him in for the garment. In this way I preserved the secret of my identity. The last thing I bought was a bottle of hair bleaching fluid. I told Lucille that if her hair was golden to match her eyes I thought her appearance would be much improved. She was quite anxious to make the test, always being ready to do anything she thought would increase her beauty. For two days, at different intervals, I brushed her hair with the fluid, and it turned the most perfect golden shade I had ever seen.