It was really quite brief—that interval of silence—although perhaps long enough to bridge the ages.
"How brave of you, Miss Abingdon!" said Harley. "How wonderfully brave of you!"
"She's an Abingdon," came the deep tones of Doctor McMurdoch. "She arrived only two hours ago and here she is."
"There can be no rest for me, Doctor," said the girl, and strove valiantly to control her voice, "until this dreadful doubt is removed. Mr. Harley"—she turned to him appealingly—"please don't study my feelings in the least; I can bear anything—now; just tell me what happened. Oh! I had to come. I felt that I had to come."
As Paul Harley placed an armchair for his visitor, his glance met that of Doctor McMurdoch, and in the gloomy eyes he read admiration of this girl who could thus conquer the inherent weakness of her sex and at such an hour and after a dreadful ordeal set her hand to the task which fate had laid upon her.
Doctor McMurdoch sat down on a chair beside the door, setting his silk hat upon the floor and clasping his massive chin with his hand.
"I will endeavour to do as you wish, Miss Abingdon," said Harley, glancing anxiously at the physician.
But Doctor McMurdoch returned only a dull stare. It was evident that this man of stone was as
