, Mr. Carlyle gave her his arm
up the steps, and took her into the breakfast-room.

"Will you prepare yourself for a surprise, Barbara?"

Suspense--fear--had turned her very pale. "Something that has happened
to Richard!" she uttered.

"Nothing that need agitate you. He is here."

"Here? Where?

"Here. Under this roof. He slept here last night."

"Oh, Archibald!"

"Only fancy, Barbara, I opened the window at nine last night to look at
the weather, and in burst Richard. We could not let him go out again in
the snow, so he slept here, in that room next Cornelia's."

"Does she know of it?"

"Of course. And Joyce also; we were obliged to tell Joyce. It is he you
have come to spend the day with. But just imagine Richard's fear. Your
father came this morning, calling up the stairs after me, saying he
heard Richard was here. I thought Richard would have gone out of his
mind with fright."

A few more explanations, and Mr. Carlyle took Barbara into the room,
Miss Carlyle and her knitting still keeping Richard company. In fact,
that was to be the general sitting room of the day, and a hot lunch,
Richard's dinner, would be served to Miss Carlyle's chamber at one
o'clock. Joyce only admitted to wait on her.

"And now I must go," said Mr. Carlyle, after chatting a few minutes.
"The office is waiting for me, and my poor ponies are in the snow."

"But you'll be sure to be home early, Mr. Carlyle," said Richard. "I
dare not stop here; I must be off not a moment later than six or seven
o'clock."

"I will be home, Richard."

Anxiously did Richard and Barbara consult that day, Miss Carlyle of
course putting in her word. Over and over again did Barbara ask the
particulars of the slight interviews Richard had had with Thorn; over
and over again did she openly speculate upon what his name really was.
"If you could but discover some one whom he knows, and inquire it," she
exclaimed.

"I have seen him with one person, but I can't inquire of him. They are
too thick together, he and Thorn, and are birds of a feather also, I
suspect. Great swells both."

"Oh, Richard don't use those expressions. They are unsuited to a
gentleman."

Richard laughed bitterly. "A gentleman?"

"Who is it you have seen Thorn with?" inquired Barbara.

"Sir Francis Levison," replied Richard, glancing at Miss Carlyle, who
drew in her lips ominously.

"With whom?" uttered Barbara, betraying complete astonishment. "Do you
know Sir Francis Levison