I shall still wear your favor—even if it is a stolen and forbidden favor—in my casque. “I have a letter for you, and no end of messages. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. She was amazed that at over sixhundred years old that she could miss her parents so bitterly. He waved a cordial goodbye. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room.
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