of rolling stone. If anything should come of this, I suppose he
can afford to marry. You ought to know about him."

"I believe I know as much as any one."

"He has no profession?" queried the lady.

"He has no profession; but I suppose he could afford it," said Lefevre
musingly.

"You don't like the idea," said his mother.

"Not much. I scarce know why. But I somehow think of him as not having
enough sense of the responsibility of life."

"I suppose his people are of the right sort?"

"I suppose they are; though I don't know if he has any people," said he,
with a laugh. "He is the kind of man who does not need parents or
relations."

"Still, hadn't you better try to find out what he may have in that
line?"

"Yes," said Lefevre; "perhaps I had."

Chapter II.

A Mysterious Case.

The two friends returned, as they had arranged, to the Hyacinth Club for
dinner. Courtney's coruscating brilliancy sank into almost total
darkness when they parted from Lady and Miss Lefevre, and when they sat
down to table he was preoccupied and silent, yet in no proper sense
downcast or dull. Lefevre noted, while they ate, that there was clear
speculation in his eye, that he was not vaguely dreaming, but with alert
intelligence examining some question, or facing some contingency; and it
was natural he should think that the question or contingency must
concern Nora as much as Julius. Yet he made no overture of
understanding, for he knew that Courtney seldom offered confidence or
desired sympathy; not that he was churlish or reserved, but simply that
he was usually sufficient unto himself, both for counsel and for
consolation. Lefevre was therefore surprised when he was suddenly asked
a question, which was without context in his own thought.

"Have you ever found something happen or appear," said Julius, "that
completely upsets your point of view, and tumbles down your scheme of
life, like a stick thrust between your legs when you are running?"

"I have known," said Lefevre, "a new fact arise and upset a whole
scientific theory. That's often a good thing," he added, with a pointed
glance; "for it compels a reconstruction of the theory on a wider and
sounder basis."

"Yes," murmured Julius; "that may be. But I should think it does not
often happen that the new fact swallows up all the details that
supported your theory,--as Aaron's rod, turned into a serpent, swallowed
up the serpent-rods of the magicians of Egypt,--so