f the moment. But I knew that
Carvel was not listening, and did not care what I said. Hermione was
watching Paul with evident concern; Mrs. Carvel and Macaulay at once
affected the greatest interest in what I was saying, while Professor
Cutter looked at Chrysophrasia, as though trying to attract her
attention.

"What a wonderful memory you have, Mr. Griggs!" said Macaulay Carvel, in
sincere admiration.

"Oh, not at all," I answered, with perfect truth. "Statistics of that
kind are very easily got."

By this time the awkwardness had disappeared, and by dint of talking
very loud and saying a great many things which meant very little, John
and I succeeded in making the remainder of the dinner pass off very
well. But every one seemed to be afraid of Chrysophrasia, and when, once
or twice, she was on the point of making a remark, there was a general
attempt made to prevent her from leading the conversation. As soon as
dinner was over we scattered in all directions, like a flock of sheep.
Chrysophrasia retired to her room. John Carvel went to the library,
whither his wife followed him in a few minutes. Macaulay, Patoff, and I
went to the smoking-room, contrary to all precedent; but as Macaulay led
the way, we followed with delight. The result of this general separation
was that Hermione and Professor Cutter were left alone in the
drawing-room.

"I want to ask you a question," said the young girl, as they stood
before the great fireplace.

"Yes," answered the scientist, anticipating trouble. "I am at your
service."

"Why did Paul turn so pale when aunt Chrysophrasia talked about Cain at
dinner, and why did everybody feel so uncomfortable?"

"It is not surprising. But I cannot tell you the story."

"You must," said Hermione, growing pale, and laying her hand upon his
arm. "I must know. I insist that you shall tell me."

"If I tell you, will you promise not to blame me here-after?" asked
Cutter.

"Certainly,--of course. Please go on."

"Do not be shocked. There is no truth in the story, I fancy. When
Alexander Patoff was lost on a dark night in Constantinople, the world
said that Paul had made away with him. That is all."

Hermione did not scream nor faint, as Cutter had expected. The blood
rushed to her face, and then sank again as suddenly. She steadied
herself with one hand on the chimney-piece before she answered.

"What a horrible, infamous lie!" she exclaimed in low tones.

"You insisted upon knowing it,