Adelina hurried away in order to disclose to Harold and Mary the decision she had made; namely, the wisdom of no longer concealing from Ralph his previous condition. On first thoughts, this seemed most unwise; and yet, assuredly, it would be far less cruel than to let Ralph continue in the belief that there existed in the woman he loved that which would lead him to an entire loss of confidence. Adelina knew that if she persisted in claiming the matter inexplicable, it would only throw a deeper shadow on the affair, and she could not make the pretense that Ralph had no right to question her.

"Adelina," said Harold, "this appears the right thing, in fact, the only thing to be done. I think uncertainty is one of the worst ills that falls to the lot of mortals. Now there will be at least something tangible. I am sure poor Ralph has found something wanting in all of us. The hardest part was in deciding what should be done. And now, that you have decided, do not trouble yourself with the outcome."

A useless caution, for he was not destined to profit by it himself.

"But, was I right in shifting the responsibility on Dr. Ellis?"

"Certainly; none but a physician would be capable of understanding the effect on Ralph's constitution. Ellis has also made psychology a life-long study."

"How did you discover that? Through your natural curiosity, of course," returned Adelina, with a feeble attempt to smile.

It could readily be seen that no matter how much the three conversed, thus trying to divert the other's thoughts, each was thinking of the conversation transpiring not far from them.

"I cannot think Ralph will be the worse for this knowledge," said Mary, unconsciously ignoring the fact that Harold and Adelina had opened the way for a change of topic, by reverting to the subject which more closely concerned them than a biography of Dr. Ellis, worthy man that he was. They little knew how much he was gleaning from the interview with Ralph, and how such knowledge would affect all of them; how Ralph had information which they were longing to hear, but which he presumed was already known to them. A stranger may often bring new light upon a subject, coming as he does without the tacit understanding of past occurrences which exists among those closely related, or thrown continually into each other's society. In this case, it would probably not have devolved upon the newcomer to penetrate the truth, had it not been that Adelina was anxious to have the matter settled in some way; for the suspense accompanying her utter ignorance of the reason of Ralph's strange conduct was telling even upon her strong constitution, when she might have withstood the ravages of physical pain alone. If she was miserable, there was certainly cause for the same emotion in Ralph. He knew of nothing to explain, while Adelina was deterred from rendering any explanation solely on his account. The explanation was simple enough, though most unusual. Much anxiety would have been spared the whole household, had anyone thought of investigating; but who dreams of asking for information supposedly already possessed? Soon the doctor entered, pausing on the threshold before he advanced into the room, to say meekly:

"What is the countersign? May I enter without it?"

This was said with an assumption of profound timidity at the stillness which reigned supreme, and which he affected to believe was exacted by the inmates of the room.

"Oh, yes; come in," said Adelina, who was the only one ready to reply.

Youth often takes the initiative, not from egoism, but its environment may have fostered the tendency to fill the hiatus which otherwise might ensue. So much dependence had ever been placed upon Adelina's executive ability, that this, accompanied by her friends' desire to produce her happiness in every conceivable way, and to advance her mentally as well, had produced in the girl most naturally the capability to meet all the demands of society, also contingencies of greater import.

"Where did you leave Ralph?" she continued.

"Oh, he has gone on one of his interminable rambles," was the response. "For the last few months he has contended that long walks were the one thing necessary for physical fatigue. All of my theories have been set at naught. It was in vain that I reminded him of my superior knowledge. In the end he almost succeeded in making me believe he was right, such is the power of continued effort. Whenever he found he was regaining strength, he would undo all of my work, remonstrate as I would."

Something had surely happened since Adelina left the two friends.

Dr. Ellis now bore a most radiant look, which was not easy to reconcile with the interview she knew had taken place.

"Now, at least," resumed Dr. Ellis, "I am enabled to understand things which baffled even my acumen."

Of course, he ended by making all laugh, which they felt quite ready to do, for there was something in the doctor's manner which invited mirth. Each one knew that had there not been an alleviating solution of the trouble, the informant would not have been able to throw off the despondency which was fast becoming the possession of all. And now, that something had happened, the reaction was great, and had to be manifested in some manner by the party. Despite the learning of Dr. Ellis, Ralph's case had certainly puzzled him. Before undertaking the case he had been warned of the condition of his prospective patient; otherwise, the doctor would not have been on the outlook for alarming symptoms.

It chanced, however, that such a warning had been entirely unnecessary, for the alarming symptoms had never come. Ralph's condition, on the whole, had been encouraging, except as Dr. Ellis stated, when there had been weakness resulting from over-exertion, a natural sequence.

Ralph had often alluded to his residence in Australia, and Dr. Ellis knew him to be ingenuous; and, besides, there could be no reason in wishing to prove an alibi. Dr. Ellis had it on the authority of well-known persons that at that identical time his young friend was, unfortunately, at one of the most prominent hospitals of America. In attributing similar statements of Ralph to mental weakness, the physician experienced a startling sensation. Suppose there had been some mistake. He secretly believed Ralph's mind to be as free from disease as his own; how it had been with Ralph before his acquaintance with him, Dr. Ellis was unprepared to say. The latter, believing himself to be competent to form some estimate of analogous cases, had in response to an urgent appeal from certain hospital officials, taken the affair into his own hands; consequently Dr. Ellis was scarcely to be censured for the conditions which arose. A letter had been sent notifying him that his services would not be requisite; that the late patient had died after a painless illness incompatible with the usual attacks accompanied by superior strength. The letter did not reach Dr. Ellis. He learned that his surmises had been correct; for Ralph had just enlightened him; not only sanctioning his conclusions but revealing to him that which truly gave more pleasure than the veriest mines of knowledge would. Now he knew that the esteem that he had given his young friend because of admirable characteristic traits might be endorsed by respect for his friend's mental ability as well.

Dr. Ellis felt that it was time to share his newly acquired knowledge with the others who were equally interested in Ralph, so he straightway proceeded to relieve the suspense he knew that they were enduring.

"I think that Ralph purposely absented himself. I proposed that I should be the one to give an account of our conversation," he said, addressing his anxious auditors. "You, of course, know that Ralph had a twin brother. I did not, however, learn it until a few moments ago. Well, that brother died six months ago, just the time I was first brought into contact with Ralph. True, the latter mentioned the death of his brother, and occasional depression seemed only natural. I was, however, on the alert to discover any sign of what I had been told was Ralph's malady. Not once did such a sign appear. He told me he had recovered from fever just before his return to America. As you, in your letter had spoken of fever also, Miss Tracy, his information coincided with yours, except in point of time. I first thought that there was a lapse of time of which he was oblivious. This set me to thinking, and while I believed ere long that his mind was unaffected, the differing accounts given me, together with chronological errors, were most bewildering. How could so many believe themselves in the right? Ralph certainly had confidence in himself, and your statements were not to be doubted, Miss Tracy. Then, too, the hospital officials would not have given an incorrect account of his sojourn in their retreat."

"It must have been annoying, certainly," interposed Mary, with ready sympathy.

"Yes, and to think proper investigation would have spared each one of us so much," returned the doctor, with emotion. "It does not seem that we ought to censure ourselves very much, for we never dreamed of investigating what we were positive was correct. Ralph's brother, Edward, died in the hospital, believed by all to be Ralph himself. I left the city soon, accompanied by the real Ralph. He, little knowing that you had seen so much of Edward, decided to have him buried in the place where he had died. Ralph must have been overcome with sorrow, for, otherwise, he would have written of his loss to you, his friends. He had a short illness almost simultaneously. Though he was able soon to walk rather long distances, for an acknowledged sick person, he really has been far from strong."

"Ralph was never one to parade his griefs," said Adelina, "probably, he thought he would see us soon, and give the news of his brother."

"Edward, alias Ralph, was never dangerous to those around him. That was why he was never taken to an asylum. There were intervals of perfect sanity," said Mary.

"Ralph's untimely return to America has caused all of this miserable misunderstanding. Unfortunate, too, was the miscarriage of the letter which informed me of Edward's demise. When I discovered Ralph in the hospital, I took him away as quietly as possible, having already that authority. Ralph answered to all descriptions, and the authorities having already written to me, never thought of repeating their information. Probably I was looked on as a personal friend of Ralph. They knew him to be all right as far as mind was concerned. How could they have thought of explaining the affair to two sane people? Ralph was not moved to a different town until he was stronger. He did not resent my care of him, but accompanied me home. Had I noted anything strange, I should have reconciled the strange phenomenon with what I believed was my patient's condition."

Dr. Ellis here took time to recover himself, and remained looking passively out of the window, until Adelina asked:

"Where, then has Ralph been all of this time? In Australia?"

Now that she had heard all, she seemed unable to take the evidence her aural sense had given her.

"Yes, he has been in Australia until a few months ago. Hereafter, I shall require of every man his brother's name before making his acquaintance."

"How did Ralph take it when you had told him all?" asked Adelina.

"He was disinclined to believe the whole story, of course. After I had succeeded in convincing him of its authenticity, he simply said, 'What a friend you have been.' You can imagine how I felt. To have believed such things of a friend, and to be exalted for it, too, made me very uncomfortable. The dear fellow forgave. I felt it in a single grasp of the hand. Then he left me at break-neck speed, his usual way when he is agitated."

"But how is it that we never heard from Ralph, at all? I mean the real Ralph."

"Pardon me," said the doctor, looking towards Miss Tracy, "he did write, and, in turn, wondered at the silence in your quarter."

"The letter was not received—if it only had been," said Mary, with a sigh. "After all, the whole trouble comes from the loss of two letters; the one to you, Dr. Ellis, and the one to us."

"The letter was accompanied by a small photograph of Ralph, which would immediately have disclosed to all of you the singular resemblance between the two brothers."

"Well, what made Ralph persist in thanking us for caring for his brother? How did he know that he had ever been in Deanmouth?" asked Mr. Tracy.

"I think that was learned from mutual friends just before his arrival; otherwise, he would have telegraphed the news of his brother's death. At that time he was not aware of your kind attention to Edward."

"I must be very obtuse," said Adelina, "but I seem unable to take it all in. How was it you discovered Edward at all?" she asked, turning to Harold and Mary.

"Notices appeared in the papers," answered Harold, "to which we paid little attention at first, even though the name was precisely that of Ralph; however, when the notices continued to appear and the friends of the young man palpably declined to come forward, it occurred to us that the matter should be investigated. It was, and behold the result. I wonder now, if in answering the advertisements, we did not do it almost entirely from feelings of sentimentality. We soon thought ourselves justified in pursuing inquiries, and yet, how wrong was the conclusion we drew."

"I think I see the subject of our talk now," interposed the doctor, "surely, some one ought to go and meet him."

His hand approached his face with a futile attempt to hide the smile which would come. Adelina's face was soon mantled with a slight blush; but, nevertheless, she bravely rose and made a motion to act upon the suggestion, knowing that all eyes were upon her, and that the doctor's remark was made more from a desire to note the effect of it than from any expectation that it would be materialized.

"As we are the ones who have unintentionally wronged Ralph, surely, we are the ones to make the reparation to him, poor boy," said Adelina.

The "poor boy" was said as though "poor dear" was what was really meant. That interpretation may only have been from undue exercise of the imaginative faculty—we shall not presume to say. No one would have denied the allegation more firmly or indignantly than Adelina. At any rate, she did not seem to weigh long the question as to which one of the party was the one to make the advances. If the opportunity was fortuitous, it was at least most desirable for herself and Ralph, but we shall come to that later.

It was not easy for the girl to go immediately to Ralph, but the desire to talk with him was the dominant sensation, and lesser ills gave way to personal desire. It would almost have appeared that the suggestion of Dr. Ellis was premeditated, and not wholly disinterested, for ere long Miss Tracy and he were seen going in the opposite direction from the way Adelina had taken. At Harold's instigation, Mary had exchanged letters with Dr. Ellis, but they pertained only to the condition and affairs of Edward Bamford. This scarcely justified the doctor in his sudden interest in his unknown correspondent who was at present a most desirable companion, in his opinion. Had the letters been of a personal character, Mary might unconsciously have made them contain a clue, and probably an interesting one, to her individuality. There was really nothing to inspire special interest, unless a thorough knowledge of orthography and rhetoric would count. It seems they did, or was it something else that had transpired? And they did not talk of Ralph now. Perhaps the reason for that was they had been discussing him for so long.

Nothing was said that a third person could not profitably, or, at least willingly, have listened to. If, with the wish to tease Adelina, there had been a covert reason for the doctor's maneuver, let us not censure him too severely. Ralph might really be feeling lonely, left out in the cold, and so forth. Strange, how he could enter into Ralph's feelings, and thus analyse them, was it not? And yet, when we consider that he had made the mind, with its various emotions the study of years, it was not odd. It seems less strange when we consider that he was experiencing feelings similar to those he attributed to his young friend; not that Dr. Ellis had been lonely, strictly speaking, for propinquity to others was certain when they were in the same room with him. There is isolation in the largest crowds; in fact, such environment only intensifies at times our sense of desolation. When one is dying of nostalgia, of little avail is it then, that others about us speak our native tongue.

Well, this strategist was far from dying, but the accomplishment of his designs to converse with Mary alone, certainly gave him a radiant look, which betokened the best of terms between himself and the entire sentient world. Why he was giving a detailed account of certain events in his life to one he had known so short a time, we shall not endeavor to determine. Suffice it to say, that he was doing so, and Mary was listening with keen interest to whatever he might have to say regarding his past life, never questioning why the information was elicited. When but a lad he had been thrown upon his own resources, and, perhaps, this knowledge had begotten in Mary a pity for which she could scarcely give an adequate reason even to herself, had such a reason been demanded of her. A great amount of pity she had always possessed, much more than the average person; and yet, in this instance, the subject of her pity had long passed the time when that pity was really needed, though when is true sympathy ever unwelcome or repulsed? Intuitively we know when it is real. Strange, is it not, that knowing this we still proffer the sympathy which is not genuine, and but a poor substitute for true fellow-feeling, and which we know must be detected as such by him who is the enforced recipient of it? Here the interest was not affected. Mary began to ask herself the cause of her sudden interest in this stranger, but she soon concluded that it must be solely due to his propinquity to Ralph during the latter's illness. Of course it was that. She felt relieved to know the cause, and to know that the excuse was sufficient—but was it?