asual glimpse of her sister, who had
seemed to him as commonplace as candle-light, he had no knowledge of any
person of her name or family. He sat silent, not knowing how to express
his ignorance without compromising Annette and himself. But Laurent
pressed him.

'Do you know of anything,' he asked, 'which should make the task of cure
difficult?'And, being thus pressed, there seemed nothing for it but for
Paul to say that he knew nothing. 'Then,' said Laurent, 'we must not
despair. I have already spoken to your wife, and have pointed out to
her the very serious nature of her danger, and she has promised me
amendment. With what result,' he added, throwing his arms abroad, 'you
see.'

'You think it a serious danger? Paul asked him.

'My God!' ejaculated Laurent--'serious! But an instant, my dear
Armstrong. We are not thinking of a male inebriate; we are thinking of a
woman--a question so different that there is barely any comparison to be
made.'

'Is that so? said Paul, in a voice of little interest, though he felt
for the moment as if his heart were breaking.

'That is so,' returned Laurent, with emphasis; 'and I can assure you
that, if you desire to effect a cure here, you must betake yourself--and
betake yourself at once--to heroic measures. Your wife must be placed,
without delay, in competent hands, and no restraint must be placed upon
those who undertake to treat her.'

'Very well,' said Paul dully, 'I understand all that We'll have another
talk in the morning, if you don't mind.'

Laurent forbore to speak further just then, but he kept Paul in silent
company for an hour, and was more useful in that way than he could have
been if he had poured out the gathered knowledge of an encyclopaedia
upon him. He gave that dumb sense of sympathy which, in hours of deep
distress, is so very much more potent than the spoken word. Paul at last
rose and shook him by the hand.

'Good-night,' he said, 'and thank you.'

Laurent accepted his dismissal, returned the grip, took up his hat
and moved away. It would appear that he had not gone far, for when an
instant later Paul poured out a second or third glass of cognac for
himself, there came a tap upon the study window, and Laurent's face was
visible there dose to one of the lower panes. Paul threw the window open
and looked out at him.

'You have something to say?' he asked.

'Yes,' said Laurent, with a grave and tender face, 'I have this one
thing to say: Do not follo