The lawyer looked surprised. "Is that so? Well," with a puzzled frown, "I don't quite understand how she came to do that. I was under the impression that she felt about as bitterly toward you as her mother does. In fact, she has said some rather nasty things about you. Boasted to more than one of her friends that she would slap your face if you ever tried to speak to her." Kenneth smiled, a reminiscent light in his eyes. "She has done so, figuratively speaking, Mr. Cornell. I am confident she hates me,--but if that's the case, why should she leave word for me to come and see her?" "Experience has taught me that women have a very definite object in view when they let on as if they had changed their minds," was the judicial opinion of Mr. Cornell. "Maybe they don't realize it, but they are as wily as the devil when they think, and you think, and everybody else thinks, they're behaving like an angel. It's not for me to say whether you should go to see her or not, but I believe I would if I were in your place. Maybe she has made up her mind to be friendly, on the surface at least, and as you are bound to meet each other at people's houses, parties, and all such, perhaps it would be better to bury the hatchet. I think you will be quite safe in going up there to-day, so far as Mrs. Gwyn is concerned. She will not appear on the scene, I am confident. You will not come in contact with her. You say that she has put some of her furniture at your disposal, but she doubtless did so on the advice of her lawyer. You must not forget that your father, in his will, left half of his personal effects to you. She is just smart enough to select in advance the part that she is willing for you to have, feeling that you will not be captious about it." "I have no desire to exact anything of--" "Quite so, quite so," broke in the lawyer. "But she could not be expected to know that. She is a long-headed woman, Mr. Gwynne. I suspect she is considerably worried about Viola. Your half-sister is being rather assiduously courted by a young man named Lapelle. Mrs. Gwyn does not approve of him. She is strait-laced and--er--puritanical." "Puritanical, eh?" said Kenneth, with a short laugh that Mr. Cornell totally misinterpreted. "Barry isn't exactly what you would call sanctimonious," admitted the lawyer, with a dry smile. "The worst of it is, I'm afraid Viola is in love with him." His client was silent for a moment, reflecting. Then he arose abruptly and announced: "I agree with you, Mr. Cornell. I will go up to see her this afternoon. I bear her no grudge,--and after all, she is my sister. Good day, sir. I shall give myself the pleasure of calling in to see you to-morrow." CHAPTER VIII RACHEL CARTER