books all day, she has sense
enough to travel."

"Oh, Chrysophrasia! How dreadfully unkind you are! You know how--ill she
is."

Mrs. Carvel did not like to pronounce the word "insane." She always
spoke of Madame Patoff's "illness."

"I do not believe it," returned Miss Dabstreak. "She is no more crazy
than I am. I believe Professor Cutter knows it, too. Only he has been
used to saying that she is mad for so long that he will not believe his
senses, for fear of contradicting himself."

"In any case I would rather trust to him than to my own judgment."

"I would not. I am utterly sick of this perpetual disturbance about
Annie's state of mind. It destroys the charm of a peaceful existence. If
I had the strength, I would go to her and tell her that I know she is
perfectly sane, and that she must leave the house. John is so silly
about her. He turns the place into an asylum, just because she chooses
to hold her tongue."

Mrs. Carvel rose with great dignity.

"I will leave you, Chrysophrasia," she said. "I cannot bear to hear you
talk in this way. You really ought to be more charitable."

"You are angry, Mary," replied her sister. "Good-by. I cannot bear the
strain of arguing with you. When you are calmer you will remember what I
have said."

Poor Mrs. Carvel certainly exhibited none of the ordinary symptoms of
anger, as she quietly left the room, with an expression of pain upon her
gentle face. When Chrysophrasia was very unreasonable her only course
was to go away; for she was wholly unable to give a rough answer, or to
defend herself against her sister's attacks. Mary went in search of her
husband, and was glad to find him in the library, among his books.

"John dear, may I come in?" asked Mrs. Carvel, opening the door of her
husband's library, and standing on the threshold.

"By all means," exclaimed John, looking up. "Anything wrong?" he
inquired, observing the expression of his wife's face.

"John," said Mrs. Carvel, coming near to him and laying her hand gently
on his shoulder, "tell me--do you think there is likely to be anything
between Paul and Hermy?"

"Gracious goodness! what put that into your head?" asked Carvel.

"I have been with Chrysophrasia"--began Mary.

"Chrysophrasia! Oh! Is that it?" cried John in discontented tones. "I
wish Chrysophrasia would mind her own business, and not talk nonsense!"

"It is nonsense, is it not?"

"Of course,--absolute rubbish! I would not hear of it, to begi