“Last night I wrote him a reply, saying ‘No,’ and telling him why.  I shall destroy that letter to-night, thankful enough that I did not have time to send it.  And my answer will then be ‘Yes.’”

“You have my best wishes for your happiness, little Margery,” said Lester, adding smilingly:  “And when; the wedding occurs, which I hope will be soon, you may, expect a very handsome present from me.”

Long after Mr. Conway and his unexpected visitor had finished their simple breakfast, they talked over the strange situation of affairs, and what was best to be done to avoid great publicity.

“The bogus Lester Armstrong went to Beechwood last night,” said the old cashier.  “He probably will remain there, as is his custom, until to-day noon.  You had better confront him there; meanwhile I will break the amazing story to those of the establishment whom it is absolutely necessary to tell.  The rest of the employees and the public at large need never know of the glaring fraud that was so cleverly practised under their very eyes.”

Lester had sprung to his feet trembling with excitement, at the information that Kendale had gone to the home of Faynie, despite the fact that Mr. Conway had assured him that Kendale was not married.

“Only yesterday he told me he contemplated marriage with a little heiress out at Beechwood, and if his wooing went on smoothly he would be a benedict in a few days’ time—­those were his exact words!” declared Mr. Conway.

“Thank Heaven the mischief has not yet been done,” cried Lester, fervently.

He would have started for Beechwood at once, had it not been for Mr. Conway, who induced him to lie down for a few hours and take a little much-needed rest, explaining that he could not go in that apparel, and it would take some little time to secure suitable raiment, and renovate his appearance.

Lester yielded to his judgment.

Neither Mr. Conway nor Margery had the heart to awaken him, as hour after hour rolled by; he seemed so thoroughly exhausted and his deep sleep was doing him such a world of good, although the complete outfit which Mr. Conway had sent for had long since arrived.

It was night when Lester opened his eyes—­imagining his surroundings for the moment but the idle vagaries of a dream.

Mr. Conway’s kindly, solicitous face bending over him soon brought him to his senses, and a remembrance of all that had occurred.

“Oh, Mr. Conway!  You should not have let me sleep,” he cried.  “I ought to have been at Beechwood hours ago; something in my heart—­some terrible presentiment is warning me that my darling is in danger!”

“You are only fanciful,” returned his old friend.  “Anxiety makes you imagine that.”

“I hope it may prove as you say,” replied Lester, huskily, and in an hour’s time he was on his way to Beechwood and Faynie.

CHAPTER XXIX.