CHAPTER III

When the valet had disappeared, Kenneth turned to his wife with a

chuckle.

"Who was right? You made me scold him for nothing."

Helen shook her head.

"I detest the man. There is something crawly and repulsive about him.

I can read evil in his face. Don't trust him, Kenneth. Remember, if

anything goes wrong, don't blame me. I warned you. My instinct seldom

fails."

Her husband laughed and, advancing, put his arm tenderly around his

wife.

"I guess I'm able to take care of myself, dear. Don't let's discuss

François any longer. Tell me about yourself. How are you going to

amuse yourself while I'm away?"

Her head drooped on his breast and once more her eyes filled with

tears. With affected carelessness which cost her a great effort, she

replied:

"Oh, the time won't hang so heavy on my hands. It never does when one

has resources within oneself. I'll read and ride and sew. I suppose

I'll have plenty to do."

"Mr. Parker said he would drop in and look after you."

"Yes--tell him to come and see me very often. He's rather tiresome

with his prosy talk, but he's a dear old soul."

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye her husband went on:

"It's not unlikely that Keralio will call, also."

"I hope not," she said quickly. "I'll soon show him he's not wanted."

Kenneth laughed. It amused him to see how set she was against the

Italian. He did not know the man any too well. He had met him in a

business way and the fellow had been of service, but he had not the

slightest idea of making a friend of him. He rather suspected he was

an adventurer although, a stranger in New York, no one knew anything

against him. Protestingly he said:

"It's hardly fair to attack a man because he admires you."

"He shows his admiration in a most offensive way. If you could see the

way he looks at me sometimes you'd be the first to resent it."

Kenneth laughed.

"Oh, you mustn't mind that. It's a way all foreigners have. They ogle

women more from force of habit than any desire to effect a conquest.

Besides, you won't be alone."

"No, I shall have Ray. She is excellent company--far jollier than

I----"

Kenneth protested.

"No, she isn't by a long shot. Ray is all right as sisters-in-law go,

but I'd never change you for her. I'm d----d if I would!"

Quickly Helen put her white hand over his mouth. With mock severity

she exclaimed:

"Kenneth! How can you be so profane? I hate to hear such language

from you. Ray is the sweetest thing on earth. It's a shame she never

got married. Oh, don't be uneasy on that score. We'll have a good

time. We'll go to the theater. We'll have teas and little dinner

parties. I'll invite some interesting men to meet her. I'd love to

see her married to some nice man. There's Mr. Steell, for instance.

He's rich, young, has a brilliant future----"

Kenneth made a grimace. Quickly he retorted:

"It's you he admires, not Ray. He will accept your invitation--less

with the idea of letting Ray hook him in the matrimonial net, than for

the opportunity it affords for a renewed flirtation with you. Oh,

quite innocent, of course, but still a flirtation. Have I forgotten

what close friends you used to be before I appeared on the scene?"

"And carried me off, a new Lochinvar come out of the West!" she

laughed. "Oh, Kenneth, how can you be so foolish? It is absolutely

indecent of you. I like Mr. Steell, and I think he likes me, but our

friendship is purely platonic. I never give him a thought, I assure

you."

"I know you don't, but I'm not so sure about him. He's a man and men

are only human----"

"He's a gentleman," corrected Helen. "He never forgets that."

Kenneth gave a grunt of incredulity. Sulkily he said:

"All right--all right. Have a good time. Marry him to Ray. Perhaps

it's safer that way. When he's my brother-in-law, he'll stop making

sheep's eyes at my wife."

Helen laughed outright.

"You silly goose. I never suspected you of having a jealous streak in

your nature. How could I prefer anyone to my handsome Kenneth?"

As she stood before him, playfully patting his cheek, her glance

alighted on the solitary lock of gray hair in the center of his

forehead. Toying with it, she went on:

"Isn't it strange that your hair should be white just in that place. I

rather like it. It gives an added note of distinction to your face. I

wonder what caused it."

Kenneth laughed.

"That's my trade mark. If ever I'm brought home on a stretcher you'll

know me by that white lock."

Helen raised her hand in protest.

"Don't talk that way. Never jest about accidents. Sometimes they

happen."

"Well--I said nothing. I only said that if you were ever in doubt

about my identity, you would know me by my white lock."

She smiled, as she patted his cheek lovingly, and said:

"That would not be necessary, Ken dear. No matter how changed you

looked, what disguise you wore, I should still know you."

"And if it wasn't me," he laughed, "but only someone who looked like

me?"

"I could never be mistaken. The ring in the voice, the expression in

the eyes--no woman who really loves could ever be deceived."

She had drawn nearer to him, her mouth upturned and tempting, her face

with that gentle, wistful expression he was never able to resist.

Throwing his arms impulsively about her, he clasped her passionately to

his breast.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, "you don't know how dear you are to me!"

"Nor can you," she replied, as he smothered her with kisses, "ever

realize what you are to me!"

Suddenly they were interrupted by a sound at the door behind them.

Some one coughed discreetly. Quickly separating, Helen turned round.

In some confusion she exclaimed:

"Hello, Ray. I thought you were out. When did you come in?"

"I was out. I have been shopping. I met Mr. Steell in the park and we

had a lovely walk." Slyly she added: "I am afraid I returned too soon.

I see you're both busy."

"Never too busy for you, Ray," smiled Helen trying to hide her

confusion, while Kenneth grinned broadly.

The young girl laughed as she flung down on the sofa her muff and fur

neck-piece. Roguishly she said:

"Lovemaking so early in the day. Aren't you ashamed of yourselves?"

Kenneth liked to tease his sister-in-law, but the young girl was quite

his equal when it came to a battle of wits and it was not often that

she gave him the opportunity.

"What time do you do your love making?" he demanded.

Her cheeks reddened a little as she retorted:

"I'm never so foolish. I leave that to you married people. My purpose

in life is far more serious."

"Oh, come now," protested her brother-in-law, "I've noticed you and

Steell spooning often enough."

Stylishly and tastefully dressed, her face beaming with animation, her

eyes sparkling with intelligence, Kenneth's sister-in-law was a pretty,

wholesome looking girl. She had beautiful blond hair like her sister,

and fine, white teeth that told of good health and perfect digestion.

Helen's junior only by three years, she was still unmarried and for the

present at least seemed more inclined to remain single and partake of

life's pleasures than incur the risks and responsibilities of

matrimony. Not that she had been without offers. A girl as attractive

and clever could hardly have failed to please the sterner sex. All

sorts and conditions of men had prostrated themselves at her tiny,

well-shod feet, but, capricious and headstrong, she would have none of

them. She was what might be called a singular girl. She liked men,

not because of their sex, but because their point of view was

different, their grasp of things stronger than her own. One day she

must marry. She knew that. It was, she insisted laughingly, an

ignoble state of slavery, a humiliating, degrading condition of

subjection to the male which every woman must endure, necessary

perhaps, but an ordeal to be put off, something unpleasant to be

postponed as long as possible, like the taking of a dose of unsavory

physic or having a tooth pulled at the dentist's. Meantime, heart

whole and fancy free, she enjoyed life to the limit and kept her

admirers guessing.

"Oh, I saw such lovely things in the stores," exclaimed the young girl.

"I wish I had the money to buy them all."

"You will have when I get back from South Africa," he laughed.

"Don't forget," she laughed. "I'll hold you to that promise. Helen is

witness."

"I swear it!" he said with mock solemnity. "You shall have carte

blanche in any Fifth Avenue shop to the amount of--$1.75."

"Will you be ready in time?" she laughed, looking around with dismay at

the litter of open trunks.

"I won't, if you stay here chattering like a magpie."

"What time does the steamer sail?"

"Eleven o'clock," said Helen.

"We're all coming to see you off. Mr. Steell told me that he's coming,

too."

"Not exactly to see me, I'm afraid," smiled Kenneth.

"Who else?" she retorted. "If you mean me, you're mistaken. He

doesn't need to make the uncomfortable trip to Hoboken to see me."

Her brother-in-law smiled, amused at her petulance.

"My dear," he said, "you don't know what hardships a man will endure

for the girl he's sweet on." With mock seriousness he went on: "Say

sis, Helen and I have been having an argument. Who does Steell come

here for--for you or for me?"

Ray burst into merry laughter.

"How silly you are, Ken. For me, of course. At least, I flatter

myself that----" With a wink at her sister she added facetiously: "Of

course, one never knows when dealing with these handsome men. And

Helen is quite adorable. If I were a man, I should be crazy about her."

Helen held up a protesting finger.

"Don't talk like that, dear, or he'll believe you."

Kenneth laughed.

"Yes, I'm as jealous as Othello and quite as dangerous. Don't I look

it?"

As he spoke, the front door-bell rang downstairs. Ray hastily took up

her things.

"Here's company!"

"I hope not!" exclaimed Helen. "I'm in no mood to see anybody."

"I'll see them," whispered Ray, "and say you're out. It won't be the

first fib I've told."

She ran lightly out of the room and upstairs, while Helen and her

husband went on with the work of packing. They were just stooping

together over a trunk when there came a rap on the door, and François

appeared.

"A lady to see monsieur."

Kenneth looked puzzled.

"A lady? What lady?"

Helen laughed merrily. Triumphantly, she exclaimed:

"It's my turn now to be jealous."

"Not exactly a lady, monsieur. An elderly person."

"What's her name?"

"Mrs. Mary O'Connor."

Kenneth smiled broadly.

"Mary O'Connor, my old nurse. Well, well, show her right in." Turning

to his wife he added quickly: "Dear old soul--no doubt she's heard I'm

off to Africa and wishes to say good-bye."

An instant later an old woman bent with age and with a kindly face

framed with silvery white hair came in, hands outstretched. Without

any air of condescension on his part, Kenneth went forward to greet

her. Through all the long stretch of years, from his boy days to his

manhood he had never forgotten how kind Mary had been to him when a

child, taking the place of the mother he had lost in infancy. A

Christmas was never allowed to pass without a fat turkey for the old

nurse and many a little present of money had accompanied the bird. The

old woman's lips quivered as she said tremulously:

"It's a long way you're going, Mr. Kenneth."

"Oh, I'll soon be back, Mary," he rejoined jovially.

She shook her head.

"It's a long way and I'm getting old."

The promoter laughed boisterously. Leading her gently to a chair he

exclaimed:

"Old! Nonsense; You're just as young to me now as when I first

remember you."

The old lady smiled. Nodding her head feebly, she replied:

"When you used to play hide-and-seek with me. When I wanted to put you

to bed you were nowhere to be found."

Helen laughed while Kenneth protested:

"Oh, come now, Mary, I wasn't so bad as that."

"No. You weren't bad--just lively and natural as all healthy children.

You were always a better boy than your brother."

Helen looked up quickly.

"Your brother, Kenneth? I never heard you speak of a brother."

He looked at the old lady in amazement.

"My brother? What brother?"

The old lady smiled.

"That's so--you never knew. You were too young to remember. Yes, you

had a brother--a twin brother. People hardly knew you apart. There

was only one way in which your mother and I could tell."

"What was that?" demanded the promoter eagerly.

"He had a scar. He caught his hand in some machinery when a baby and

it left a scar in the index finger of the left hand."

Transfixed, Kenneth listened open-mouthed. At last breaking the spell,

he exclaimed:

"I never heard of him. You never spoke of him before."

"How should you remember?" went on the old woman. "It's many years

ago. Your father and mother are dead. You have no relatives living.

No one knows. But I know."

"Did he die?" asked Kenneth, deeply interested.

The old lady nodded affirmatively.

"I shall never forgive myself. It was my fault. You were playing

together in the garden. I didn't dream either of you could come to

harm. I went into the house for a moment to get something. When I

came back your brother was gone--no trace of him anywhere. We never

saw him again. Your father, heart-broken, offered a fortune for news

of him. The police hunted high and low all over the country. There

was no trace. Some gypsies had passed recently through the town. I

always suspected them. That is thirty years ago and more."

"So it's not even known if he's dead," interrupted Kenneth eagerly.

The beldame shook her head sorrowfully, as she answered sagely:

"Oh, he's dead all right. That's sure. There was money left to him by

your grandfather. For years the lawyers advertised for news of him.

But it was no good. If he'd been alive, he'd have claimed his own."

"He might still be alive, yet unaware of his identity," broke in Helen,

who was a keenly interested listener. She had been so accustomed to

regard her husband as the only son of parents, both of whom were dead,

that the mere possibility of his having a brother awakened her

curiosity.

Still under the spell of the old woman's unexpected revelation, Kenneth

had relapsed into a thoughtful silence. The surprising news had

affected him strangely. So--he had had a brother--a twin brother, and

all these years he had been in ignorance of the fact. Yet who could be

nearer or dearer than a twin brother? Together they had lain under the

same mother's heart. Together they had first seen the light and

laughed in the sun. Ah, if he had only lived to be his comrade, his

partner! With a brother at his side, to second him in his hazardous

enterprises, he felt he would indeed be invincible. He could have

conquered the world!

The old nurse held out a withered hand, and her eyes were moist with

tears as she said:

"Good-bye, Mr. Kenneth. A safe journey to you. Keep out of danger.

I'll be praying for the Lord to watch over you."

Helen turned away so they might not see her emotion. Kenneth laughed

lightly as he kissed the old woman's cheek, and then, slipping a bank

note into her hand, he said carelessly:

"All right, Mary, I'll be careful. I'll come back safe and

sound,--never fear, and I'll bring you something nice,--perhaps a big

diamond. Out in South Africa they pick 'em up like stones."

The old woman's eyes opened incredulously.

"Really, Mr. Kenneth?"

"Yes, really. Diamonds as big as apples. They're found every day.

When I come back I'll have all sorts of adventures to tell you about.

Who knows? I might even run across this twin-brother of mine.

Stranger things have happened."

"Diamonds as big as apples," she echoed. "Do you mean that, Mr.

Kenneth?"

He laughed.

"Indeed I do! Some of the gems are as big as cocoanuts. Didn't you

hear of that wonderful diamond we found the other day? It's worth a

million dollars."

The old woman opened her eyes and gaped with astonishment.

"A million dollars, Mr. Kenneth!"

"Yes, a million dollars. What's more, I'll soon be able to show it to

you, Mary. My trip out to South Africa is ostensibly for the purpose

of negotiating for more land. The real purpose of my journey is to

bring home this astonishing stone."

"But how will you carry it, Mr. Kenneth? A stone worth a million

dollars must be big as a house."

Kenneth laughed.

"No--no, Mary. It can easily go in my waistcoat pocket. But for

safety's sake it won't. I don't mind letting you into my confidence.

I'm to have a secret bottom made in----"

Before he could complete the sentence, Helen quickly clapped her hand

over his mouth, and he had not yet recovered from his astonishment when

she sprang to the door and opened it. The movement was so sudden and

unexpected that a man who had been leaning against it, fell all his

length into the room. It was François, the French valet.

"_Excusez_," he stammered, "I stumbled."

Kenneth stared first at the servant, then at his wife. Slowly he began

to comprehend. Turning to the Frenchman he demanded angrily:

"What were you doing behind that door?"

"_Excusez_. I came back to ask monsieur how many shirts I pack."

Thoroughly aroused, the promoter pointed to the door. Sternly he said:

"Get out of here--you fool! If you don't know your business, I'll get

some one else who does."

The Frenchman beat a rapid retreat. There was a malevolent look on his

face, but he murmured respectfully enough:

"_Oui, monsieur_."

Kenneth turned to his wife.

"What did he come back for?" he demanded.

"He was listening--behind the door," she replied calmly.