n, he stepped back to Anitra's side. Surely she
must understand that it was Georgian and not herself about whom he was
most anxious to hear. But she did not seem to. The smile with which she
greeted him suggested nothing of the past. It spoke only of the future.

"I will learn to be like sister," she impulsively cried out, rising and
beaming brightly upon him. "I will forget the old gipsy ways and Mother
Duda's ways, and try to be nice and pretty like my sister. And you shall
learn me to read and write. I've known deaf people who learned. Then I
shall know what you think; now I only know how you feel."

He shook his head, a little sadly, perhaps. There were people who could
teach her these arts, but not he. He had neither the ability, the
courage, nor the patience.

"Then some one shall learn me," she loudly insisted, her cheek flushing
and her eye showing an angry spark. "I will not be ignorant always; I
will not, I will not." And turning, she fled from his side, and he was
left to think over her story and ask himself for the hundredth time what
it all meant, what his own sensations meant, and what would be the
outcome of conditions so complicated.

The possibly speedy appearance on the scene of Georgian's so-called
brother did not detract from his difficulty. He felt helpless without
the support of Mr. Harper's presence, and spent a very troubled forenoon
listening to the mingled condolences and advice of people who had no
interest in his concerns save such as sprang from curiosity and a morbid
craving for excitement.

At two o'clock occurred the event of which he had been forewarned. A
carriage drove up to the hotel and from it stepped two travelers; one
of them a stranger, the other the man with the twisted jaw. Mr. Ransom
advanced to meet the latter. He was anxious to listen to his first
inquiries and, if possible, be the person to answer them.

He was successful in this. Mr. Hazen no sooner saw him than he accosted
him without ceremony.

"What is this I hear and read about Georgian and her so-called twin?" he
cried. "Nothing that I can believe, I want you to know. Georgian may have
drowned herself. That is credible enough. But that the girl we read about
in the papers and whom she evidently induced to come to this place with
her should be the dead girl we called Anitra--why, that is all bosh--a
tale to deceive the public, and possibly you, but not one to deceive me.
The coincidence is much too improbable."