r,
what then? There was no one else in whom she could confide; may she not
honor your judgment without coveting your adoration. Bah! the very fact
that she confides in you proves that she cares nothing for you. However,
she has a heart for somebody; that is proved by her agitation upon
hearing the story, and reading the letter telling of poor Sybil
Lamotte's misery. For undoubtedly in some manner she has been made a
victim; can it be that wretched Evan? His agitation to-day bore the look
of remorse, and God knows where dissipation will not lead a man. I know
something of that, too." Here he frowns darkly, and sits for a long time
looking the incarnation of resentment and defiance.

"Bah!" he mutters presently, "what a blot upon the record of a proud
family! A father who is a philanthropist and public benefactor; a mother
who is '_une dame sans reproche_;' a brother against whom I can bring no
charge save that he is my rival; a sister, beautiful and good and
accomplished, but that beauty, goodness, culture, are all shipwrecked;
how could either live in the same atmosphere with John Burrill, as I
have heard him described. Evan Lamotte is a black sheep; I should take
it Burrill must be a black dog, or worse, and sheep and dog are owned by
the same family. After all, what is race? a fig for pedigree. It's the
deed that tells. Here in the next room I have a man who claims to be
nobody. Nothing is said or known about his blood; a great deal is said
and known about his brain, favorably said, too, and honorably known. He
is a detective, and as such, dead to the blue book; it's his business to
hunt men down, to pry into secret places, to unmask villainies, and drag
to light shameful family secrets; and, for the second time, he has
stumbled upon a secret of mine, and treated it most generously.

"To-night I say to him, 'know me only as Doctor Heath, from nowhere.'
Another man would have asked for an explanation, when the opportunity
came; but not he. He sits with me, sups with me, sleeps under my roof,
and makes no sign that he ever knew me save as I now am. He treats me as
a man worthy his confidence, yet asks none of mine. That's what I call
splendid behavior; that's a man worthy to be called a gentleman. I
wonder;" here his countenance darkens, and his eyes look gloomy. "I
wonder what this honorable officer would say if he knew what I did
to-night? if he knew, say I! does he not know? how can I tell? he is
sharp, a lynx; and