CONTENTS.

DISAPPEARANCE.
CHAPTERPAGE
I. The Holy Oils[1]
II. The Night at the Tavern[7]
III. The Abysses of Pain[16]
IV. The Road to Nothingness[25]
V. The Door is Closed[33]
AMONG THE EXILES.
VI. Another Man's Shoes[40]
VII. The Dillon Clan[55]
VIII. The Wearin' o' the Green[68]
IX. The Villa at Coney Island[77]
X. The Humors of Election[87]
XI. An Endicott Heir[100]
THE GREEN AGAINST THE RED.
XII. The Hate of Hannibal[107]
XIII. Anne Dillon's Felicity[119]
XIV. Aboard the "Arrow"[128]
XV. The Invasion of Ireland[137]
XVI. Castle Moyna[147]
XVII. The Ambassador[158]
AN ESCAPED NUN.
XVIII. Judy Visits the Pope[170]
XIX. La Belle Colette[177]
XX. The Escaped Nun[190]
XXI. An Anxious Night[199]
XXII. The End of a Melodrama[208]
XXIII. The First Blow[218]
XXIV. Anne Makes History[227]
XXV. The Cathedral[236]
XXVI. The Fall of Livingstone[248]
THE TEST OF DISAPPEARANCE.
XXVII. A Problem of Disappearance[258]
XXVIII. A First Test[266]
XXIX. The Nerve of Anne[274]
XXX. Under the Eyes of Hate[283]
XXXI. The Heart of Honora[296]
XXXII. The Pauline Privilege[304]
XXXIII. Love is Blind[312]
XXXIV. A Harpy at the Feast[320]
XXXV. Sonia Consults Livingstone[327]
XXXVI. Arthur's Appeal[335]
XXXVII. The End of Mischief[344]
XXXVIII. A Tale Well Told[351]
XXXIX. Three Scenes[360]

DISAPPEARANCE.

THE ART OF DISAPPEARING.

CHAPTER I.

THE HOLY OILS.

Horace Endicott once believed that life began for him the day he married Sonia Westfield. The ten months spent with the young wife were of a hue so roseate as to render discussion of the point foolish. His youth had been a happy one, of the roystering, innocent kind: noisy with yachting, baseball, and a moderate quantity of college beer, but clean, as if his mother had supervised it; yet he had never really lived in his twenty-five years, until the blessed experience of a long honeymoon and a little housekeeping with Sonia had woven into his life the light of sun and moon and stars together. However, as he admitted long afterwards, his mistake was as terrible as convincing. Life began for him that day he sat in the railway carriage across the aisle from distinguished Monsignor O'Donnell, prelate of the Pope's household, doctor in theology, and vicar-general of the New York diocese. The train being on its way to Boston, and the journey dull, Horace whiled away a slow hour watching the Monsignor, and wondering what motives govern the activity of the priests of Rome. The priest was a handsome man of fifty, dark-haired, of an ascetic pallor, but undoubtedly practical, as his quick and business-like movements testified. His dark eyes were of fine color and expression, and his manners showed the gentleman.