Ashcroft fixed his eyes upon her searchingly.

“Her face looks strangely familiar,” he said to himself.  “Where can I have seen her?”

Mrs. Crawford, like all persons who have a secret to conceal, was distrustful of strangers.  She took an instant dislike to Reuben Ashcroft, and her greeting was exceedingly cold.

“I have invited Mr. Ashcroft to make me a visit of two or three days, my dear,” said her husband.  “He is a cousin to Carl’s mother.”

Mrs. Crawford made no response, but kept her eyes fixed upon the carpet.  She could not have shown more plainly that the invitation was not approved by her.

“Madam does not want me here,” thought Ashcroft, as he fixed his gaze once more upon his friend’s wife.  Again the face looked familiar, but he could not place it.

“Have I not seen you before, Mrs. Crawford?” he asked, abruptly.

“I don’t remember you,” she answered, slowly.  “Probably I resemble some one you have met.”

“Perhaps so,” answered Ashcroft, but he could not get rid of the conviction that somewhere and some time in the past he had met Mrs. Crawford, and under circumstances that had fixed her countenance in his memory.

After supper Dr. Crawford said:  “My dear, I have told our guest that I had, as a prudential measure, made my will.  I wish you would get it, and let me read it to him.”

Mrs. Crawford looked startled and annoyed.

“Couldn’t you tell him the provisions of it?” she said.

“Yes, but I should like to show him the document.”

She turned and went upstairs.  She was absent at least ten minutes.  When she returned she was empty-handed.

“I am sorry to say,” she remarked, with a forced laugh, “that I have laid away the will so carefully that I can’t find it.”

Ashcroft fixed a searching look upon her, that evidently annoyed her.

“I may be able to find it to-morrow,” she resumed.

“I think you told me, Paul,” said Ashcroft, turning to Dr. Crawford, “that by the will your estate is divided equally between Carl and Mrs. Crawford.”

“Yes.”

“And nothing is said of any guardianship on the part of Mrs. Crawford?”

“No; I think it would be better, Ashcroft, that you should be Carl’s guardian.  A man can study his interests and control him better.”

“I will accept the trust,” said Ashcroft, “though I hope it may be many years before the necessity arises.”

Mrs. Crawford bit her lips, and darted an angry glance at the two friends.  She foresaw that her plans were threatened with failure.

The two men chatted throughout the evening, and Dr. Crawford had never of late seemed happier.  It gave him new life and raised his spirits to chat over old times with his early friend.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

A man of energy.