"I'll do it!" he exclaimed. "Strange if I can't extract from a broken down old woman any items of family history that might serve my purpose. I'll call on the nurse—what's her name—to-night."
He glanced across the meadow to where stood the cottage of Nurse Hagar, and, as if satisfied with himself and his brilliant last idea, resumed his walk. Presently his pace slackened again, and he looked at the crumpled paper which he still retained in his hand, saying:
"It's queer what sent Cora to the city for this flying visit. I must keep my Madeline out of her way. If they should meet—whew!"
Evidently, direful things might ensue from a meeting between Madeline Payne and this unknown Cora, for after a prolonged whistle, a brief moment of silence, and then a short laugh, Davlin said:
"I should wear a wig, at least," and he laughed again. "I wonder, by Jove! I wonder if old Arthur's money bags are heavy enough to make a card for Cora. Well, I'll find that out, too."
CHAPTER II.
THE OLD TREE'S REVELATIONS.
Meanwhile, strange feelings filled the heart, and troublesome thoughts the head, of Madeline Payne.
She looked about her sorrowfully. The leafy wood seemed one of her oldest, truest friends. Since her mother's death, she had lived, save for the faithful regard of old Hagar, an unloved life. In the only home she knew, she felt herself an object of dislike, and met only cold neglect, or rude repulsion. So she had made a friend of the shady wood, and welcomed back the birds, in early Springtime, with joyful anticipation of Summer rest under green branches, lulled and soothed by their songs.