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 closed but which had looked into his two years ago. Something haunting her—what? The loss of him, her son? That was part of it, perhaps; but not all. Else, now that she had found him, why had she not sent for him? Why—though living—did she let all the world suppose her dead?

The entrance of the housekeeper put an end to his self queries. "Nothing more has happened, Mrs. Wain," Barney said to her at once to quiet the alarm which his appearance at that hour had roused. "She"—he hesitated and then did not name his mother, but repeated—"she was gaining strength when I left. They had more hope. I went from the hospital to the library and read what the newspapers had to say about her last September," he continued. "Of course, I understand much more than I did this morning; but of course I want to know everything—everything you can tell me."

For a moment the housekeeper stared at him, uncertainly, not quite recovered from her shock of alarm; then, realizing his words, she advanced to him suddenly and grasped the lapel of his coat. "Listen, Mr. Dick!" she whispered. "I've broken my given word to her now; but I thought she was going; God gives me testimony to that! Oh, it is all between her and him, don't you see? It's always been between her and him," the housekeeper iterated incoherently, "between her and him—"

"Her and—God?" Barney asked, bewildered.

"God?" the housekeeper repeated and laughed. "The Devil on earth himself; Mr. Lucas Cullen, Senior! Don't you see? She's fought him since she was a child, a little girl, sir, and he downed her; he disgraced her and—and she lost you! Then she came here and