Cicely eyes dropped involuntarily. Then she raised them, and stared straight at Fessenden. “What do you mean?” she asked haughtily.

“Just what I say. Was that written paper an expression of your own heart’s secret?”

It must have been because of Fessenden’s magnetism, or compelling sympathy, but for some reason Cicely took no offense at this, and answered simply, “Yes.”

“Strange,” mused Rob, “how that man won so many women’s hearts.”

“No, it isn’t strange,” said Cicely, also in slow, thoughtful tones. And then, suddenly realizing the admission she had made, and seeing how she had revealed her own secret she flew into a rage.

“What do you mean ?” she cried. “I didn’t refer to Mr. Carleton.”