vernor dismissed 'em
yesterday. He told me they worried him. Me and the butler does what's
necessary."

"You say he is more depressed during the nights--you mean he shows the
effects of that depression in the mornings?"

"Just so, sir."

"I am going to be confidential, Smedley. Are you aware if your master
has any secret trouble on his mind, any worry that he reveals to no
one?"

"No, sir, I am not."

"Thank you, Smedley. Good night."

"Good night, sir, and thank you."

I had obtained no light from Alexis, and I sought in vain for an
explanation of my patient's condition. Of course, it was plausible
enough to argue that his passion for Rosa was at the root of the evil;
but I remembered Rosa's words to me in the carriage, and I was
disposed to agree with them. To me, as to her, it seemed that, though
Alresca was the sort of man to love deeply, he was not the sort of man
to allow an attachment, however profound or unfortunate, to make a
wreck of his existence. No. If Alresca was dying, he was not dying of
love.

As Alexis had remarked, it was a lovely summer night, and after
quitting the Devonshire I stood idly on the pavement, and gazed about
me in simple enjoyment of the scene.

The finest trees in Hyde Park towered darkly in front of me, and above
them was spread the star-strewn sky, with a gibbous moon just showing
over the housetops to the left. I could not see a soul, but faintly
from the distance came the tramp of a policeman on his beat. The
hour, to my busy fancy, seemed full of fate. But it was favorable to
meditation, and I thought, and thought, and thought. Was I at the
beginning of an adventure, or would the business, so strangely
initiated, resolve itself into something prosaic and mediocre? I had a
suspicion--indeed, I had a hope--that adventures were in store for me.
Perhaps peril also. For the sinister impression originally made upon
me by that ridiculous crystal-gazing scene into which I had been
entrapped by Emmeline had returned, and do what I would I could not
dismiss it.

My cousin's wife was sincere, with all her vulgarity and inborn
snobbishness. And that being assumed, how did I stand with regard to
Rosetta Rosa? Was the thing a coincidence, or had I indeed crossed her
path pursuant to some strange decree of Fate--a decree which Emmeline
had divined or guessed or presaged? There was a certain weirdness
about Emmeline that was rather puzzling.

I had seen Rosa but twice, and her im