and began
rubbing her finger-tips with a handkerchief.

"I think we'd better remove the dust of the Norwegian," she said; "and
I make a vow never to read him again--in the morning." She stood
looking down at her caller, good-humoredly and continued: "I suppose
it is my fault, but you have a dreadfully gloomy expression. Or
maybe," as an afterthought, "you ate an unwholesome dinner last night.
Were you at the Perrings, by any chance?"

He shook his head, his keen eyes searching her face.

"No," said he, "I had much more important matters on hand."

She held up her hand.

"It was something about this Hume affair," she said.

"Yes," he replied.

The smile was now gone; she leaned back against a heavy table, her
fingers tightly clasping its edge.

"I have been trying to forget that dreadful thing," she said. "I've
stopped looking at the papers, because I would be sure to see it
mentioned. And," with never a faltering in her eyes, "because I might
be reminded of it in some other way, I now remain indoors."

"Last night was an exception, perhaps," suggested he, smoothly.

"Last night?" There was a questioning look in her beautiful eyes; the
finely posed head with its crown of bright hair bent toward him
inquiringly.

An expression of chagrin crept into his face.

"You were not out last night, then?" said he.

"What makes you think so?" smilingly. "It was dreadfully dull here,
too. But then," with a shrug, "anything is better than a constant
reminder of that Christie Place affair."

He nodded understandingly.

"I suppose it _is_ very distressing." He frowned gloomily at the tips
of his shoes and she could see that he bit his lip with vexation.
After a moment or two, he said: "It's very strange; but I was quite
sure I saw you last night."

"Yes?" Her tone was one of careless interest.

"However," he went on, "I had but a glimpse of the lady; and could
easily have been mistaken." He wore a baffled look, but smiled as he
got up. "And," said he, "my visit of this morning was based upon the
sight I fancied I had of you last night."

She laughed amusedly.

"It was something interesting," she said. "Please tell me about--but,
no, no," hastily. "If it has anything to do with the Hume case, I'd
rather not hear it."

She had pressed the bell call for the footman, when he said:

"Mr. Morris still keeps himself well concealed, I note."

Like a tigress leaping to defend her young, she met the accusation.

"M