passages, and asked him if he knew where Miss Camerden was? He answered
without hesitation that she had stood in the rear hall a little while
before, listening to Miss Murray; that she had then gone upstairs by the
spiral staircase, leaving word with him that if anybody wanted her she
would be found in the small boudoir over the porch.

I thanked him, and was on my way to join her when Mr. Armstrong called
me. He must have kept me a half-hour in his room discussing every aspect
of the affair and apologising for the necessity which he now felt of
bidding farewell to most of his guests, among whom, he was careful to
state, he did not include me. Then, when I thought this topic exhausted,
he began to talk about his wife, and what this dreadful occurrence was
to her, and how he despaired of ever reconciling her to the fact that it
had been considered necessary to call in a coroner. Then he spoke of
Sinclair, but with some constraint and a more careful choice of words,
at which, realising that I was to reap nothing from this interview, only
suffer strong and continued irritation at a delay which was costing me
the inestimable privilege of being the first to tell Dorothy of her
re-establishment in every one's good opinion, I exerted myself for
release, and to such good purpose that I presently found myself again in
the hall, where the first person I ran against was Sinclair.

He started, and so did I, at this unexpected encounter. Then we stood
still, and I stared at him in amazement, for everything about the man
was changed, and--inexplicable fact!--in nothing was this change more
marked than in his attitude toward myself. Yet he tried to be friendly
and meet me on the old footing, and observed as soon as we found
ourselves beyond the hearing of others:

"You heard what Gilbertine said. There is no reason for doubting her
words. _I_ do not doubt them, and you will show yourself my friend by
not doubting them either." Then, with some impetuosity and a gleam in
his eye quite foreign to its natural expression, he pursued, with a
pitiful effort to speak dispassionately: "Our wedding is
postponed--indefinitely. There are reasons why this seemed best to Miss
Murray. To you I will say that postponed nuptials seldom culminate in
marriage. In fact, I have just released Miss Murray from all obligations
to myself."

The stare of utter astonishment I gave him provoked the first and only
sneer I have ever seen on his face. What was I