"I came near succeeding," said Denton, grimly. "The next time I will wholly succeed."
"Perhaps not," rejoined the detective. "Your disguise was very good, Mr. Denton; but there was one thing you forgot."
"What is that?"
"To wear gloves. Any one would know that the hands did not belong to an old man. Besides, Quakers don't generally wear rings. I suspected you from the first."
"What a consummate fool I was!" muttered Denton, in disgust. "I ought to have thought of that."
CHAPTER XIII.
GRACE DEARBORN AT HOME.
Grace Dearborn sat before the fire in her aunt's handsome house, with a writing-desk in her lap. Before her was a sheet of note-paper on which she had commenced writing a list of names.
Her aunt sat near her, dictating a list of persons who were to receive cards of invitation to a party which she proposed giving in honor of her niece's birthday.