of the day, and of the
prospect of an early spring, though we were still in January. People
always talk of spring before the winter is half over. I said I wondered
whether Paul would stay to the end of the hunting season.

"I hope so," said Hermione.

"By the by," I remarked, "you seem to have overcome your antipathy for
your cousin. You are very good friends."

"Yes, he is interesting," she answered. "I wonder"---- She paused, and
looked at me rather wistfully. "Have you known him long?" she asked,
suddenly.

"Not very long."

"Do you know anything of his past life?"

"Nothing," I answered. "Nobody does, I fancy, unless it be Professor
Cutter."

"He has been very unhappy, I should think," she said, presently.

"Has he? Has he told you so?" I resented the idea of Paul's confiding
his woes, if he had any, to the lovely girl I had known from a child. It
is too common a way of making love.

"No--that is--yes. He told me about his childhood; how his brother was
the favorite, and he was always second best, and it made him very
unhappy."

"Indeed!" I ejaculated, indifferently enough. I knew nothing about his
brother except that he was dead, or had disappeared and was thought to
be dead. The story had never reached my ears, and I did not know
anything about the circumstances.

"How did his brother die?" I asked.

"Oh, he is dead," answered Hermione gravely. "He died in the East
eighteen months ago. Aunt Annie worshiped him; it was his death that
affected her mind. At least, I believe so. Professor Cutter says it is
something else,--something connected with cousin Paul; but papa seems to
think it was Alexander's death."

"What does the professor say?" I inquired.

"He will not tell me. He is a very odd person. He says it is something
about Paul, and that it is not nice, and that papa would not like me to
know it. And then papa tells me that it was only Alexander's death."

"That is very strange," I said. "If I were you, I would believe your
father rather than the professor."

"Of course; how could I help believing papa?" Hermione turned her
beautiful blue eyes full upon my face, as though wondering at the
simplicity of my remark. Of course she believed her father.

"You would not think Paul capable of doing anything not nice, would
you?" I asked.

Hermione blushed, and looked away towards the distant woods.

"I think he is very nice," she said.

I am Hermione's old friend, but I saw that I had no righ