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again would impress upon him the fact that her playful and
thoughtless criticismwhich was personal and confidentialwas
only based upon the circumstances that the author had really made a
more beautiful and touching story than the poor facts which she had
furnished seemed to warrant。 She had only just learned the
fortunate circumstance that Mr。 Fletcher was in the neighborhood of
the hotel where she was staying with her brother。
With the same practical； business…like directness； but perhaps a
certain unbusiness…like haste superadded； she rolled up the
manuscript and dispatched it with the letter。
This done； however； a slight reaction set in； and having taken off
her hat and shawl； she dropped listlessly on a chair by the window；
but as suddenly rose and took a seat in the darker part of the
room。 She felt that she had done right； that highest but most
depressing of human convictions！ It was entirely for his good。
There was no reason why his best interests should suffer for his
folly。 If anybody was to suffer it was she。 But what nonsense was
she thinking！ She would write to him later when she was a little
cooler；as she had said。 But then he had distinctly told her； and
very rudely too； that he didn't want her to write。 Wanted her to
make SIGNALS to him；the idiot！ and probably was even now watching
her with a telescope。 It was really too preposterous！
The result was that her brother found her on his return in a
somewhat uncertain mood； and； as a counselor； variable and
conflicting in judgment。 If this Clementina； who seemed to have the
family qualities of obstinacy and audacity； really cared for him；
she certainly wouldn't let delicacy stand in the way of letting him
know itand he was therefore safe to wait a little。 A few moments
later； she languidly declared that she was afraid that she was no
counselor in such matters； really she was getting too old to take
any interest in that sort of thing； and she never had been a
matchmaker！ By the way now； wasn't it odd that this neighbor； that
rich capitalist across the bay； should be called Fletcher； and
〃James Fletcher〃 too； for Diego meant 〃James〃 in Spanish。 Exactly
the same name as poor 〃Cousin Jim〃 who disappeared。 Did he remember
her old playmate Jim？ But her brother thought something else was a
deuced sight more odd； namely； that this same Don Diego Fletcher was
said to be very sweet on Clementina now； and was always in her
company at the Ramirez。 And that； with this 〃Clarion〃 apology on
the top of it； looked infernally queer。
Mrs。 Ashwood felt a sudden consternation。 Here had sheJack's
sisterjust been taking Jack's probable rival into confidential
correspondence！ She turned upon Jack sharply：
〃Why didn't you say that before？〃
〃I did tell you；〃 he said gloomily； 〃but you didn't listen。 But
what difference does it make to you now？〃
〃None whatever；〃 said Mrs。 Ashwood calmly as she walked out of the
room。
Nevertheless the afternoon passed wearily； and her usual ride into
the upland canyon did not reanimate her。 For reasons known best to
herself she did not take her after…dinner stroll along the shore to
watch the outlying fog。 At a comparatively early hour； while there
was still a roseate glow in the western sky； she appeared with grim
deliberation； and the blue lamp…shade in her hand； and placed it
over the lamp which she lit and stood on her table beside the
window。 This done she sat down and began to write with bright…eyed
but vicious complacency。
〃But you don't want that light AND the window； Constance；〃 said
Jack wonderingly。
Mrs。 Ashwood could not stand the dreadful twilight。
〃But take away your lamp and you'll have light enough from the
sunset；〃 responded Jack。
That was just what she didn't want！ The light from the window was
that horrid vulgar red glow which she hated。 It might be very
romantic and suit lovers like Jack； but as SHE had some work to do；
she wanted the blue shade of the lamp to correct that dreadful
glare。
CHAPTER XII。
John Milton had rowed back without lifting his eyes to Mrs。
Ashwood's receding figure。 He believed that he was right in
declining her invitation； although he had a miserable feeling that
it entailed seeing her for the last time。 With all that he
believed was his previous experience of the affections； he was
still so untutored as to be confused as to his reasons for
declining； or his right to have been shocked and disappointed at
her manner。 It seemed to him sufficiently plain that he had
offended the most perfect woman he had ever known without knowing
more。 The feeling he had for her was none the less powerful
because； in his great simplicity； it was vague and unformulated。
And it was a part of this strange simplicity that in his miserable
loneliness his thoughts turned unconsciously to his dead wife for
sympathy and consolation。 Loo would have understood him！
Mr。 Fletcher； who had received him on his arrival with singular
effusiveness and cordiality； had put off their final arrangements
until after dinner； on account of pressing business。 It was
therefore with some surprise that an hour before the time he was
summoned to Fletcher's room。 He was still more surprised to find
him sitting at his desk； from which a number of business papers and
letters had been hurriedly thrust aside to make way for a manuscript。
A single glance at it was enough to show the unhappy John Milton
that it was the one he had sent to Mrs。 Ashwood。 The color flashed
to his cheek and he felt a mist before his eyes。 His employer's
face； on the contrary； was quite pale； and his eyes were fixed on
Harcourt with a singular intensity。 His voice too； although under
great control； was hard and strange。
〃Read that；〃 he said； handing the young man a letter。
The color again streamed into John Milton's face as he recognized
the hand of Mrs。 Ashwood； and remained there while he read it。
When he put it down； however； he raised his frank eyes to
Fletcher's； and said with a certain dignity and manliness： 〃What
she says is the truth； sir。 But it is I alone who am at fault。
This manuscript is merely MY stupid idea of a very simple story she
was once kind enough to tell me when we were talking of strange
occurrences in real life； which she thought I might some time make
use of in my work。 I tried to embellish it； and failed。 That's
all。 I will take it back；it was written only for her。〃
There was such an irresistible truthfulness and sincerity in his
voice and manner； that any idea of complicity with the sender was
dismissed from Fletcher's mind。 As Harcourt； however； extended his
hand for the manuscript Fletcher interfered。
〃You forget that you gave it to her； and she has sent it to me。 If
I don't keep it； it can be returned to her only。 Now may I ask who
is this lady who takes such an interest in your literary career？
Have you known her long？ Is she a friend of your family？〃
The slight sneer that accompanied his question restored the natural
color to the young man's face； but kindled his eye ominously。
〃No；〃 he said briefly。 〃I met her accidentally about two months
ago and as accidentally found out that she had taken an interest in
one of the first things I ever wrote for your paper。 She neither
knew you nor me。 It was then that she told me this story； she did
not even then know who I was； though she had met some of my family。
She was very good and has generously tried to help me。〃
Fletcher's eyes remained fixed upon him。
〃But this tells me only WHAT she is； not WHO she is。〃
〃I am afraid you must inquire of her brother； Mr。 Shipley；〃 said
Harcourt curtly。
〃Shipley？〃
〃Yes； he is traveling with her for his health； and they are going
south when the rains come。 They are wealthy Philadelphians； I
believe； andand she is a widow。〃
Fletcher picked up her note and glanced again at the signature；
〃Constance Ashwood。〃 There was a moment of silence； when he
resumed in quite a different voice： 〃It's odd I never met them nor
they me。〃
As he seemed to be waiting for a response； John Milton said simply：
〃I suppose it's because they have not been here long； and are
somewhat reserved。〃
Mr。 Fletcher laid aside the manuscript and letter； and took up his
apparently suspended work。
〃When you see this Mrs。Mrs。 Ashwood again； you might say〃
〃I shall not see her again；〃 interrupted John Milton hastily。
Mr。 Fletcher shrugged his shoulders。 〃Very well；〃 he said with a
peculiar smile； 〃I will write to her。 Now； Mr。 Harcourt；〃 he
continued with a sudden business brevity； 〃if you please； we'll
drop this affair and attend to the matter for which I just summoned
you。 Since yesterday an important contract for which I have been
waiting is concluded； and its performance will take me East at
once。 I have made arrangem