As they wheeled around the corner, toward Mrs. Fleming’s elegant brownstone mansion, they came face to face with a man loitering on the corner as if waiting for some one, and--the man was James Cullen! Yes, it was Mrs. Fleming’s old servant, whom no one had heard of since he left Sea View, swearing that he would find Letty and her lover, and kill them both. Impulsively Daisie flung herself from her wheel, Annette following her example, and beckoned the man to approach. He slouched toward them sullenly, looking as if he had far rather run away. He was well dressed, in a loud, flashy style, with rings on his stubby fingers, and a thick gold watch chain ostentatiously paraded across his plaid vest. “How do you do, Cullen? I’m glad to find you looking so prosperous. Did--did--you ever find Letty Green?” demanded Daisie breathlessly. Cullen turned red and pale by turns, and shuffled his feet confusedly, giving a rapid, furtive glance down the street toward Mrs. Fleming’s mansion; then he blurted out eagerly: “No, madame; I swear I’ve never caught up with the little baggage yit!” With that, he turned quickly from them, and hurried around the corner, losing himself in the crowds on Fifth Avenue. “The man looked as if he were lying!” exclaimed Annette, as they remounted their wheels. A few more turns brought them to the widow’s house, and, to their amazement, they saw Letty Green coming down the marble steps, gayly dressed, and looking quite as prosperous as Cullen, a look of satisfaction on her pert little face. Daisie and Annette looked at each other with a vague suspicion in their eyes, and the latter cried, in a troubled voice: “Don’t let us speak to the girl--oh, don’t!” But again Daisie sprang from her wheel in front of the approaching girl, exclaiming sharply: “Stop, Letty Green, I wish to speak to you!” Letty paused, with an insolent smile, and swept them both a curtsy. “I’m sure I’m glad to see you again, Mrs. Sherwood and Miss Janowitz.” Daisie spoke again, and a strange impulse made her exclaim coolly: “Letty, we saw Cullen waiting for you at the corner. So you married him, after all?” Imposed on by the quietly assertive tone, and supposing Cullen had confessed the truth, Letty answered falteringly: “Yes, madam.” “And,” pursued Daisie gaspingly, her face death-white, “perhaps--perhaps--you didn’t elope with Mr. Bain--after all. It--it--was a lie you wrote to Cullen, was it not?” “Come away, Daisie,” pleaded Annette; but she shook off the gentle hand impatiently. “Answer me,” she said imploringly, to Letty, a wild hope springing in her tortured heart. “Did you go away with--him--or not?” The girl hung her head in shame, and muttered defiantly: “Yes, madam, I did elope with Mr. Bain. I can’t deny the truth.” But falsehood was written on her face and in her eyes that she dare not uplift to the girl she had wronged. Daisie cried bitterly: