Adelina found Mary awaiting her, and, though, secretly delighting in the interruption, learned that there was really no reason for her being summoned, except Mary's wish to discuss recent events, and the desire to hasten a meeting between the two young people. The young girl read the question Mary longed to ask, and answered it accordingly, "I have seen him."

"He is much better than we ever dared to expect. He seems never to have been troubled by the strange malady we know has existed, save for one illusion. Twice he has spoken of his indebtedness to us for the care of his brother. It is clearly a case of mistaken identity. Ralph thinks the man, for whom we have cared, was his brother. As I said, his loss of such consciousness, is all that remains of his former trouble. Perhaps he did have a brother," Mary ended thoughtfully.

"Yes," replied Adelina, "he has mentioned a brother, though I have often wondered why he never told me more concerning him."

"The gentleman who accompanied Ralph is his physician, Dr. Ellis. He said that Ralph was so anxious to come, and that he was so imprudent he needed some one to watch him."

"Did Dr. Ellis use the word 'watch' before Ralph?" asked Adelina indignantl y.

"Yes, but only to convey physical deficiency."

"And where is Ralph now?" asked Adelina.

"With Harold, in the library. Let us go there now. Dr. Ellis left on the plea of other engagements, but partly, I think, to leave us alone with Ralph this first evening. Aside from professional feelings, he seems to take the greatest interest in Ralph."

By this time the speakers had reached the library door, where Mary paused as if to give her young friend a moment for preparation. Adelina, however, desired to make a speedy entrance, which would admit of no time for deliberation. She felt that if she had time to consider the prospective meeting, a feeling of constraint would follow. The most carefully prepared language remains unuttered when one is brought face to face with the contingency. Memory fails, leaving only a trace of forgotten eloquence, which is sufficient to render us speechless, knowing as we do, that aught said now, must ever be inferior to the expressions formulated in quieter moments. Adelina straightway entered the room. Ralph turned quickly, as though in recognition of her step. He came eagerly forward and took the proffered hand, looking searchingly into the girl's eyes. What he read there was not the indifference he had contemplated, prior to his arrival at Deanmouth. A faint flush suffused Adelina's cheek, and, as if to conceal her emotion, she uttered some polite triviality, which, it is safe to say, was not remembered by her. Harold left them, ostensibly on some forgotten errand.

Adelina looked after his retreating form longingly, but remembered that Mary had not forsaken her. To her surprise, she found, on glancing around, that Mary had not even entered with her. Ralph Bamford had differing views as to the desirability of additional company, as was testified by his readiness to enter into conversation, while inwardly blessing Harold for his considerate departure.

"It is such a pleasure to be here," he said. "How I have longed to see you." Then, afraid of his own audacity, emended the last sentence by saying: "Yes, I have often thought of the old place and its occupants."

"It seems to me that we might have been mentioned first, besides it is not long since you saw the place."

"Only a matter of three years. There is, I believe, one accepted mode for the computation of time, which is universally utilized by the enlightened, however we may disagree in the lapse of it. To me three years is no short time."

"What can you mean? You were——" Adelina broke off, horrified at her want of thought; for had she not promised to be all carefulness?

Already she found herself endeavoring to recall to Ralph his other sojourns at the same place under such inauspicious circumstances. She could not proceed with the self-interrupted sentence, even though she was aware that the pause was noticed by Ralph; yet, surely, it was but natural that Adelina should remind him of his former visits to the place. He had seemed so like his old self that she was certain he would remember the visit of only a year ago. She scarce knew what to answer, when Ralph said with a most surprised look:

"What is the matter? Have I returned sooner than you expected?"

There was reproach as well as surprise in the query. Adelina was pained by the lapse of memory, supposedly inconsistent with the soundness of mind she had commenced to think had been restored to him. Of course the young man attributed her silence to indifference, which state she was far from feeling. The situation was certainly a strange one. There was the lover hanging on the anticipated reply, and longing for a denial of his hasty words; the woman fearing to utter some word which would either wound him, or intensify the mental failure of which the young man himself was totally oblivious. As soon as Adelina perceived her error, she tried to retrieve it by diverting Ralph's attention, refraining carefully from setting him aright concerning his mistaken asseveration; but the young man was not to be diverted by other channels of thought from the question at issue. Having noted Adelina's confusion, he had asked for the cause, and finding one question unanswered, had supplemented it by another. He was growing impatient. Why did Adelina act so unlike herself? Surely, there was nothing to conceal. It was not as though he was a stranger; though, to his amazement, he found he was being treated as such; why, he had known her capable of giving the most evasive replies in the sweetest manner to the most direct interrogations, and never had she appeared so ill at ease to him. Did two persons ever more thoroughly misunderstand each other, or so fail in penetrating the other's thoughts? There could not even be a reconciliation when no wrong had been committed; there was only the breach which neither could cross. Only a feeling of misery, blank and hopeless remained, which it seemed time only could assuage.

Adelina felt as strongly as Ralph her utter inability to talk; the mere fact that she was so thoroughly misunderstood widened the breach. If she could only have explained to Ralph the cause of her hesitation,—but no, she knew she never could.

Even if Ralph was ever his true self again, Adelina knew that even to spare herself she would never hurt him by such an explanation, an explanation entailing a revelation of the symptoms and various stages of his disease. If it necessitated such indelicacy, she felt that she would prefer being misjudged. This was only theory. She had not been put to the test. How can we answer for what we shall do in a given instance? Adelina was the first to rally, and was beginning to speak, when the door-knob was imperatively rattled by something intent upon letting its wants be known.

"It must be Watch," said Adelina, after she had discovered whence the sound issued.

"An intelligent dog," answered Ralph, "and certainly very active for his years. I am ashamed to say I had almost forgotten his existence."

"You wouldn't if you stayed long," said Adelina, as she hastened to the door. Accustomed as she was to the rather rough canine greetings, she concealed herself behind the door without looking at the supposed dog as she opened a way for his entrance. A small voice said, "I want to tome in."

"That much is evident," laughingly put in Ralph, as Adelina emerged from her hiding place.

"Is that you, Pet?" she asked. "Come and speak to Mr. Bamford."

"Is oo mawwied to him?" asked the child, innocently.

"If we only were," said Ralph to himself, perhaps not intended to be in so low a tone as not to reach the desired quarter.

"Do oo weally want to be?" questioned the child, of Ralph, who had drawn her onto his knee.

"Did you come alone?" was the irrelevant answer.

"'Es; I'se not afwaid. I tan thee my houth fwom here."

"Our rector, Mr. Bayne, is her father," explained Adelina. "We are the greatest of friends," she added.

"Who? You and Mr. Bayne?" asked Ralph.

"No, the child, of course."

Pet, not caring to be excluded from the conversation, and feeling a monopoly unfair, persisted in obtaining a solution to the subject uppermost in her baby mind.

"Won't oo tell Pet?" she said. "Do oo want to det mawwied?"

Receiving still no reply, and in no wise diverted from her curiosity, she continued to enlarge on the subject.

"Papa'll mawwy oo. I'll wun ast him now. Pet fordets," she said, slipping off Ralph's knee ere he was aware of her intention.

"Oh, stop her," cried Adelina, with energy, but so horrified that she could do nothing herself to intercept the childish form. Ralph hurried to the door just in time, and caught the child in his arms.

She looked disappointed.

"Pet fordets," she reiterated.

"You will never get me to believe that," laughed Ralph, remembering her former perseverance. Seeing that Pet did not understand, he kissed her and said he wanted her to stay with him. Adelina had retired to the farthest corner of the room. At first, she was half angry with the child; but later, amusement was the predominating sensation. Presently Pet's voice was heard asking where Ada was, so the latter stepped forward. Ralph's eyes were dancing mischievously.

"You do not mind the baby's prattle, surely?" said he, lest Adelina would deem his ill-concealed merriment untimely and unprecedented.

The child had brought a change of atmosphere. The two older persons seemed to breathe a different air. Adelina had been troubled at Pet's extreme candor; though, meanwhile admiring the parents who so early had instilled that virtue. Pet had looked with wide-eyed wonder at the two who could wish her to keep anything from her father.

"I always tell papa evwything," she urged.

"But this is not about yourself, dear," said Adelina, trying to put it so the little one would understand.

"But I thaw it," was the answer.

"Saw it?" said Adelina; then added severely, "you saw nothing."

"I did thee he wanted to mawwy oo," sobbed the child, "'tause he looked happy."

Adelina found herself floundering in a sea of difficulties, so for answer, only kissed the child; and, to put an end decisively to further argument, said:

"Pet, dear, let us see if Ralph has goodies in his pocket."

The little one understood. Whatever wrong she had committed was forgiven. She glanced at Ralph, for it never occurred to her that Adelina's suggestion might prove fallacious. Her implicit confidence in another's word gave evidence of the training received; that the child was not accustomed to being deceived in trifles was obvious. When it was found that Ralph could produce the desired sweetmeats, Adelina asked, teasingly:

"Have you never overcome your boyish weakness?"

"Fortunately for you I have not. Your veracity was at stake. It would have served you right if I had refused to resign the desired articles, after your putting an abrupt terminus to an absorbing topic, ingeniously introduced."

Such audacity in referring to the subject Adelina fondly thought she had brought to an ignominious end quite took away her breath.

"Yes," pursued Ralph reflectively, "that child is a genius; added to that is the perseverance requisite to complete success."

"Those two are incorrigible," murmured Adelina.

"No, we're not," objected the irrepressible Pet, "we're in chair. Tan't oo thee uth?" She had all of the child's impatience of incorrect statements.

Ralph shook with laughter at this naive utterance.

"I'm doin' home," said Pet, waiting, however, with the expectation of an invitation to remain.

As her elders vouchsafed no reply, she repeated the information, and slid off Ralph's knee.

Ralph who felt that he had probably gone far enough, simply expressed a desire to have her return very soon.

"I will tome," she promptly answered. Then, waiting to be kissed by both, she ran off, calling back sweetly:

"I'll not tell papa if oo don't want me to."