was now made clear, and Fleming Stone's work in West Sedgwick was done.
I was chagrined, for I felt that all he had discovered, I ought to have found out for myself.
But as I glanced at Florence, and saw her lovely eyes fixed on me, I knew that one reason I had failed in my work was because of her distracting influence on it.
"Take me away from here," she said, and I gently led her from the library.
We went into the small drawing-room, and, unable to restrain my eagerness, I said,
"Tell me, dear, have you broken with Hall?"
"Yes," she said, looking up shyly into my face. "I learned from his own lips the story of the Brooklyn girl. Then I knew that he really loves her, but wanted to marry me for my fortune. This knowledge was enough for me. I realize now that I never loved Gregory, and I have told him so."
"And you do love somebody else?" I whispered ecstatically. "Oh, Florence! I know this is not the time or the place, but just tell me, dear, if you ever love any one, it will be—"
"You" she murmured softly, and I was content.
A CHAIN OF EVIDENCE
XVI. Leroy Arrives on the Scene
XVIII. The Rooms in Washington Square
XX. The Initialed Handkerchief
Chapter I.
The Girl Across the Hall
I do hate changes, but when my sister Laura, who keeps house for me, determined to move further uptown, I really had no choice in the matter but to acquiesce. I am a bachelor of long standing, and it's my opinion that the way to manage women is simply to humor their whims, and since Laura's husband died I've been rather more indulgent to her than before. Any way, the chief thing to have in one's household is peace, and I found I secured that easily enough by letting Laura do just as she liked; and as in return she kept my home comfortable and pleasant for me, I considered that honors were even. Therefore, when she decided we would move, I made no serious objection.
At least, not in advance. Had I known what apartment-hunting meant I should have refused to leave our Gramercy Park home.
But "Uptown" and "West Side" represented to Laura the Mecca of her desires, and I unsuspectingly agreed to her plans.
Then the campaign began.
Early every morning Laura scanned the papers for new advertisements. Later every morning she visited agents, and then spent the rest of the day inspecting apartments.
Then evenings were devoted to summing up the experiences of the day and preparing to start afresh on the morrow.
She was untiring in her efforts; always hopeful, and indeed positive that she would yet find the one apartment that combined all possible advantages and possessed no objectionable features.
At first I went with her on her expeditions, but I soon saw the futility of this, and, in a sudden access of independence, I declared I would have no more to do with the search. She might hunt as long as she chose; she might decide upon whatever home she chose; but it must be without my advice or assistance. I expressed myself as perfectly willing to live in the home she selected, but I refused to trail round in search of it.
Being convinced of my determination, my sister accepted the situation and continued the search by herself.
But evenings I was called upon as an advisory board, to hear the result of the day's work and to express an opinion. According to Laura it required a careful balancing of location and conveniences, of neighborhood and modern improvements before the momentous question should be decided.
Does an extra bathroom equal one block further west? Is an onyx-lined entrance greater than a buttoned hall-boy? Are palms in the hall worth more than a red velvet hand-rail with tassels?
These were the questions that racked her soul, and, sympathetically, mine.
Then the name. Laura declared that the name was perhaps the most important factor after all. A name that could stand alone at the top of one's letter paper, without the support of a street number, was indeed an achievement. But, strangely enough, such a name proved to be a very expensive proposition, and Laura put it aside with a resigned sigh.
Who does name the things, anyway? Not the man who invents the names of the Pullman cars, for they are of quite a different sort.
Well,