He saluted, in silence, the two gentlemen who advanced to meet him.
And then an angry flush stole over his pale face.

It was not the chilly greeting of the massive Lemuel Boardman, not the sharp, attentive nod of Mr.Ezra Warner, which sent the blood leaping to his heart; it was the slight inclination of the head of Mr.John Witherspoon, his secret antagonist.

For he scented danger when the young Detroit lawyer appeared here in the stronghold of his rebellious wife in name.
"Miss Worthington will join us in a few moments," said Mr.Boardman.
There was the rustling of heavy, trailing robes, and Arthur Ferris scarcely dared raise his eyes as the figure of his girl bride darkened the door.
And he knew his fate at the first glance! He knew that he had lost her forever, the bride of a crime.
There was a majesty in that slight figure, clad in its sombre mourning drapery, which awed him.

There was a set, marble pallor upon the beautiful face, and Arthur Ferris could not see the sapphire blue eyes veiled with their fringing lashes.

He had started forward, had stretched out appealing hands, and murmured "Alice," but the youthful heiress merely glided past him in a stern silence.