two lovers whose history she was creating.

Her door opened and a grave, handsome man with a bearded face stood
before her.

"Madam," he said briefly "you once did my brother a great favor. I am
here to thank you for it."

His brother? A favor? Ah, she had been doing favors for many in all
these years. She did not remember any particular one; it was an every
day matter. Every mail brought petitions and she never turned a deaf
ear. The doing of favors brought its own reward.

She looked steadily at the stranger, and he felt again in his inmost
soul the gaze of those large brown eyes seen once before dilated with
childish terror.

"My name is Garrett," he explained, as briefly as before.

Garrett--that hated name. Involuntarily her eyes fell upon the work
before her, while a warm flush mantled her cheeks.

"May I sit down for five minutes?"

She again raised her eyes without speaking, and he seated himself, not
looking at but beyond her as if her steady gaze unmanned him.

"Madam, my parents are dead. I have come to offer you Deering Castle
at your own price. I should not presume to suggest it as a gift. It is
yours if you wish it. I have heard so often," and here his voice fell