or longer at a time, in a manner that he had never disclosed?--or
would the disjointed thing within him which harried his somber, lonely
life force him in a blind moment to make a disgraceful scene at the
gathering? She prayed that neither would happen, and that the sunshine
fighting for egress through his darkness would come forth soft and
genial and very fine and sweet, as it did sometimes, and always
unaccountably....

The worst had happened at the party. No doubt it was intolerable,--but
not so bad as when (he was then only four) he had tried to kill a boy
for lying about him and was whipped mercilessly by his father,--for
here, in the library, he was sitting before Mr. Gilbert, who was pale
and whose eyes had a deep, inscrutable look. He was a large and powerful
man, and had a genial nature, with force and sternness. The lad had
never seen him looking thus, and so evidently guarding a prisoner, and
the boy felt a strange weight within.

Whatever had happened must have left a shadow on the assemblage, for,
though faint sounds came through the closed doors, they were somewhat
lacking in the robustness of youth. Ray did not deign an effort to
remember. More than that, he hoped that it never would come back, for it
might be disturbing to his solitudes. Of his attempts to remember the
attack on the boy ten years ago, there had never come any result but the
recollection of a wholly disconnected event,--when he was enveloped in a
swirl of flame and smoke from a fierce grass fire, and had to fight his
way through to life. He did not try to think what his father's purpose
was in holding him a prisoner tonight. Was it to give him a lecture?
Pshaw! The beautiful, peaceful woods would make him forget that
child's-play, and he would steal away to them with Cap this very night,
as soon as all were asleep.

Thus, motionless and in silence, sat he and his father, seemingly
through an endless, aching time. After a while the guests quietly left.
His sisters omitted their customary good night to their father. All
sounds from the servants ended. Then entered his mother, uncommonly
pale, and in silence looked from her son to her husband. She was small
and dainty, and very, very pretty, the boy reflected. It was a pity that
her bright eyes should be dim tonight and her sweet mouth drawn. She
looked worn and as though she dreaded something.

"Are you ready?" Mr. Gilbert asked, regarding her fixedly.

Her lip trembled, but there cam