“You are entirely too lax in your views,” retorted Miss Rebekah, nettled by her cousin’s criticism. “I warned you years ago that evil would come if you indulged Marjorie too much.” “Thee did thy best to warn me, Becky,” admitted the Quakeress, taking no pains to conceal her amusement. “I give thee credit for plain speaking.” “I fear your reward will be less.” Miss Rebekah’s temper had been sorely tried by the long ride in the cold wind, and like many another she ached to vent her ill-humor on some one. “Marjorie has fallen from the path of rectitude and honor.” “Rebekah!” Madame’s steel knitting needles were not as bright as the flash in her eyes as she regarded the irate spinster. “Take heed to what thee says; my patience is small this afternoon.” “I mean exactly what I say. Did Marjorie tell you she was discharged by Admiral Lawrence?” The Quakeress laid down her needles. “No.” “Ah, I thought she would not dare.” “Explain thyself, Rebekah.” “I met Admiral Lawrence this morning; he asked me to acquaint you with the fact that he discharged Marjorie for stealing”--Madame Yvonett’s hand sought her heart as if to still its sudden throb, and her face went gray--“for stealing a codicil to his wife’s will in which Mrs. Lawrence disinherited Chichester Barnard,” finished Miss Rebekah, her small triumph blinding her to the agony she had inflicted on her aged kinswoman. Had not Marjorie’s “going wrong” fulfilled her prophecy? She had always been jealous of Madame Yvonett’s affection for her greatniece, and had treasured each careless action and thoughtless word Marjorie had been guilty of to her, the better to nurse her spite against the young girl. But Admiral Lawrence, in asking her to break the news of the codicil’s loss, his suspicions, and proposed legal action to Madame Yvonett, had placed a double-edged sword in her hand. Ever ready to believe evil of her fellowmen and women, the spinster never doubted that Madame Yvonett would instantly credit Admiral Lawrence’s charge against Marjorie. “Thee is mad; quite mad!” gasped the Quakeress, as soon as she recovered her breath. “I am surprised thee dares to come to me with such lies!” “Lies? Do you doubt Admiral Lawrence’s word?” Miss Rebekah’s eyes were round with wonder. “Of course I doubt it. Does thee think for one moment I would believe ill of my Marjorie?” Her fine voice trembled with passionate intentness. “Thee is madder than I first supposed, Rebekah.” The spinster quailed before her scorn. “Answer the front door, the bell has been ringing for some moments; then thee can go to thy room and pack thy trunk.”