It was early the next morning that a young lady, very much perturbed, called on us at our hotel, scarcely waiting even the introduction of her plainly engraved card bearing the name, Miss Norma Sanford. "Perhaps you know of my sister, Asta Sanford, Mrs. Orrin Everson," she began, speaking very rapidly as if under stress. "We're down here on Asta's honeymoon in Orrin's yacht, the Belle Aventure."

"How old would he be now?" "He must be nearly forty. It was many years before Langen married again." "Do you know him personally?" "Have you a picture of Miss Langen?" Fellner rang a bell and Berner appeared. "Give this gentleman Miss Asta's picture. Take the one in the silver frame on my desk;" the old gentleman's voice was friendly but faint with fatigue.

Fellner glanced hastily at the paper. "Why does the police send to me?" "It concerns your ward." Fellner sat upright in bed now. He leaned over towards his visitor as he said, pointing to a letter on the table beside his bed, "Asta's overseer writes me from her estate that she left home on the 18th of November to visit me.

I did not care for the remaining ten thousand because I would have the entire fortune after Asta's death. I would have seen the official notice and the call for heirs in Australia, and would have written from there, announcing that I was still alive. If you had come several days later I should have been a rich man within a year."

"And what do you think? Louise has begun the violin. You've no idea how the little thing takes to it." "Oh?" "And Asta's got another tooth she had a wretched time, poor thing, while it was coming through." It was as if she were drawing the children up to him, to show him that at least he still had them. He looked at her for a moment. "Merle, you ought never to have married me.