house and into the dining-room, where Christopher was waiting impatiently for his dinner. 7 He turned quickly as Marie and her aunt entered. He was a man who hated being kept waiting a moment, though if it pleased him he broke appointments without the slightest hesitation. 7 Conversation was intermittent during dinner. Naturally there was a gloom over the house. It was only as they were leaving the table that Miss Chester said, smiling faintly: "Do you notice that Marie has grown up, Chris?" "Grown up!" he echoed. He looked at Marie's flushing face. "She has put her hair up," said Miss Chester. Christopher looked away indifferently. "Oh, had she? I didn't notice." The tears started to Marie's eyes. She felt like a disappointed child. 8 8 CHAPTER II "All men kill the thing they love By all let this be heard. The coward does it with a kiss. . . ." THERE followed a terribly dull week, during which Marie hardly went out. Miss Chester believed in seven days' unbroken mourning, and she kept the girl to it rigorously. Christopher came and went. He seemed very busy, and was constantly shut up in the library with men whom Miss Chester said were "lawyers." "There are a great many things to settle, you know," she told Marie. "Your father had large properties and much money to leave." Marie said, "Oh, had he?" and lost interest. As yet money had not much significance for her, but she watched the