of it,--

"Are you suffering to-day? Can we do anything for you? Please let us,
if we may."

"You give me all I can receive; no one can help my pain yet; but a
time will come when something may be done for me; then I will speak."
And, to her great surprise, he rose and left her, without another
word.

She saw him no more till evening; then he looked excited, played
stormily, and would sing in defiance of danger. The trouble in Amy's
face seemed reflected in Helen's, though not a word had passed between
them. She kept her eye on Casimer, with an intentness that worried
Amy, and even when he was at the instrument Helen stood near him, as
if fascinated, watching the slender hands chase one another up and
down the keys with untiring strength and skill.

Suddenly she left the room and did not return. Amy was so nervous by
that time, she could restrain herself no longer, and slipping out,
found her cousin in their chamber, poring over a glove.

"Oh, Nell, what is it? You are so odd to-night I can't understand you.
The music excites me, and I'm miserable, and I want to know what has
happened," she said, tearfully.

"I've found him!" whispered Helen, eagerly, holding up the glove with
a gesture of triumph.

"Who?" asked Amy, blinded by her tears.

"The baron."

"Where?--when?" cried the girl, amazed.

"Here, and now."

"Don't take my breath away; tell me quick, or I shall get hysterical."

"Casimer is Sigismund Palsdorf, and no more a Pole than I am," was
Helen's answer.

Amy dropped in a heap on the floor, not fainting, but so amazed she
had neither strength nor breath left. Sitting by her, Helen rapidly
went on,--

"I had a feeling as if something was wrong, and began to watch. The
feeling grew, but I discovered nothing till to-day. It will make you
laugh, it was so unromantic. As I looked over uncle's things when the
laundress brought them this afternoon, I found a collar that was not
his. It was marked 'S.P.,' and I at once felt a great desire to know
who owned it. The woman was waiting for her money, and I asked her.
'Monsieur Pologne,' she said, for his name is too much for her. She
took it into his room, and that was the end of it."

"But it may be another name; the initials only a coincidence,"
faltered Amy, looking frightened.

"No, dear, it isn't; there is more to come. Little Roserl came crying
through the hall an hour ago, and I asked what the trouble was. She
showed me a prettily-bound prayer