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 were to work out their destinies within the bounds of Manhattan Island. And yet. …

"It would be strange," said Maitland thoughtfully, "if. …" He shook his head, smiling. "Two shall be born," quoted Mad Maitland sentimentally,—

"'Two shall be born the whole wide world apart—'"

A piano organ, having maliciously sneaked up beneath his window, drove him indoors with a crash of metallic melody.

As he dropped the curtains his eye was arrested by a gleam of white upon his desk,—a letter placed there, doubtless, by O'Hagan in Maitland's absence. At the same time, a splashing and gurgling of water from the direction of the bath-room informed him that the janitor-valet was even then preparing his bath. But that could wait.

Maitland took up the envelope and tore the flap, remarking the name and address of his lawyer in its upper left-hand corner. Unfolding the inclosure, he read a date a week old, and two lines requesting him