"Mister Sprague, Miss," she announced, with a comforting nod at her young mistress, whose pale face and frightened eyes had not escaped her attention. Sprague stood on the threshold in evident embarrassment, looking from Agnes to Chatham, and uncertain how to act. "I fear I am intruding, Miss Murdock," he said at last; "your maid told me she thought you could receive me. Perhaps I would better call again." "No, no, Mr. Sprague," replied the young girl effusively, coming toward him with outstretched hands; "I am so glad to see you." And then, observing his inquiring glance toward Chatham, "I think," she added coldly, "that this gentleman has said all that he has to say to me." Chatham's excitement had subsided; in the reaction, he seemed ill and weak as he nervously clenched his tremulous right hand. "I will wait to see Doctor Murdock," he said doggedly in a low voice. "As you please," replied Agnes after a slight hesitation. "Mary, show Mr. Chatham to the Doctor's study." As the accountant followed the servant from the room, blank despair was stamped in every feature, and it seemed to Sprague, as the door closed, that he heard something like a convulsive sob. Unconsciously Agnes had clung to Sprague's hand. Now, as the sense of danger disappeared, she became aware of what she was doing; and, in sudden embarrassment, she withdrew her hand from his reassuring clasp. The artist, recalling the object of his visit, at once became grave and formal. "I am sorry to intrude upon you at this unconventional hour, Miss Murdock, but I found this letter in my studio to-day. It was evidently dropped by you yesterday; and, thinking it might be important, I----" "A letter? What letter?" asked Agnes, puzzled. Sprague held out the sealed envelope. The young girl tore it open and cast a hurried glance at its contents. Then suddenly understanding, she tore the paper to shreds, and threw these angrily into the fire which burned brightly in the large open fire-place. "Oh, that!" she exclaimed contemptuously. And then after a pause: "Do you mean to say you thought----?" She stopped short, seized by a sudden shyness. "What else could I think?" said Sprague softly. He was watching the fragments of paper as they flared upon the hearth. The flame which consumed them seemed to shed a radiant glow upon his heart. "Then," he added presently and still more softly, "if there is nothing between you and--and him--perhaps--perhaps I may hope--Miss Murdock--Agnes----" His hand sought hers and found it. But the reaction had come at last, and the brave girl who had been able to control herself in the presence of a threatening madman now gave way to a fit of hysterical weeping.