It was certainly news, and entirely unexpected at that. Those people
might be in Greenland, for all Archie had known, and indeed he had
supposed they were on the other side of the ocean. He listened with
interest while Boggs went on to say that they had hired an old
plantation house and grounds and were living a strictly secluded life.
The narrator had seen them in one of his drives through the country, and
had talked a few minutes with Mr. Fern; but--and he said it with a touch
of pique--he had not been invited to visit them, nor had any apology
been made for the neglect.

"By George, I thought it rather tough!" he added, "considering the way
you and I got him out of that nigger's clutches."

"But you must remember what he has since endured," replied Archie,
mildly.

"And there's been no explanation, of any sort?"

"Not the slightest. I'd give half I'm worth if I could get a clue. It
worries me all the time. A life like that girl's ruined--simply
ruined--in twenty-four hours, and nobody able to tell why! It's enough
to drive a man frantic!"

Mr. Weil did not drive immediately to Oakhurst, which he learned was the
name of the estate that Mr. Fern rented, but he enclosed his card in a
hotel envelope and sent it there by mail, without a word of comment. If
they thought it best to see him he would be glad to go, otherwise he
would not intrude on their privacy.

Several days after--mails were slow in the South--an answer came. It
briefly requested that Mr. Weil and Mr. Boggs, if the latter were still
in town, would come to lunch on the following Wednesday. Boggs fumed
slightly at the apparent difference made between him and Weil, but ended
by going with his friend to Oakhurst.

Mr. Fern did not look any worse than when Archie had last seen
him--indeed, if anything, he had improved in appearance. Time helps most
griefs to put on a better face, and though the marks of what he had
passed through would not be likely to leave his countenance, the utter
hopelessness had in a measure disappeared. When Daisy came into the
parlor, she also wore a mien not quite so crushed as when she left the
room at Midlands with her words of farewell. Whatever her trouble was,
it had not left her without something to live for. Her youth was doing
its work, and it seemed to the anxious eyes of the onlooker that time
would restore her nearly, if not quite, to her former radiance.

In the presence of Mr. Boggs, neither father nor daughter ca