little pointed chin against the rose of her palm, she sat lost in a world of reverie.
"Do you ever see Jack Egerton now?" she asked suddenly.
He smiled, accustomed to her wilful wanderings.
"Yes, frequently," he said in turn. "We have known one another so long» that I look upon him as my best friend."
"Your best friend!" she echoed. "Ah! that is to be regretted. Then you could not have known him when he was a student in Paris."
"No; tell me about him," Hugh asked anxiously.
"Although I knew him, I shall say nothing beyond the fact that his was an unenviable reputation."
His lips were parted in surprise as he looked at her.
"My darling," he said, a trifle coldly, "you can't expect me to judge my friend without being aware of his offence."
"His offence!" she exclaimed, with a start. "What—what do you mean? What do you know of his offence?"
He was astonished at her sudden and intense interest.
"Nothing beyond what you have just told me," he replied calmly, although her strange agitation had not escaped him.
It seemed as if she had unintentionally referred to something she wished to hide. Drawing a long breath, she quickly recovered herself.
"Ah, I understand," she said; "I thought you were referring to—other things."
The mention of Paris had brought vividly to his memory the strange letters and the photograph he had discovered among his dead brother's papers. A dozen times he had resolved upon approaching the subject, in an endeavor to find out how they came into his posses-
