o own myself mistaken, if your mother turns out to
be perfectly sane."

"You are very honest," returned Patoff. "All I want to express is that,
although I am grateful to you for taking her home, I think she is quite
able to take care of herself. I should be very sorry to think that you
felt yourself bound not to leave her. She is fifty-two years old, I
believe, but she is very strong, though she used to fancy herself in bad
health, for some reason or other; she has a maid, a courier, and plenty
of money. You yourself admit that she has no delusion except about this
sad business. I think that under the circumstances she could safely
travel alone."

"Possibly. But the case is an interesting one. I am a free man, and your
mother's age and my position procure me the advantage of studying the
state of her mind by traveling with her without causing any scandal. I
am not disposed to abandon my patient."

"I can assure you," said Paul, "that if I thought she would tolerate my
presence I should go with her myself, and I repeat that I am sincerely
obliged to you. Only, I do not believe she is mad. I hope you will write
to me, however, and tell me how she is."

"Of course. And I hope you will tell me whether you have changed your
mind about her. I confess that you seem to me to be the calmest person I
ever met."

"I?" exclaimed Paul. "Yes, I am calm now, but I have not had a moment's
rest during the last month."

"I can understand that. You know the worst now, and you have nothing
more to anticipate. I have no right to inquire into your personal
feelings, but I should say that you cared very little for your mother,
and less for your brother, and that hitherto you had been animated by a
sort of fictitious sense of responsibility. That has ceased, and you
feel like a man released from prison."

The professor fixed his keen gray eyes on Paul's face as he spoke. His
speech was rather incisive, considering how little he had seen of Paul.
Perhaps he intended that it should be, for he watched the effect of his
words with interest.

"You are not a bad judge of human nature," answered Patoff, coolly. But
he did not vouchsafe any further answer.

"It is my business," said the professor. "If, as a friend of Madame
Patoff's family, I take the liberty of being plain, and of telling you
what I think, you may believe that I have not wholly misjudged your
mother, since I have hit the mark in judging you."

"I am not sure that you hav