now as much of the facts as you do, still
they can sometimes give you an inner light on points you would not have
thought of. Besides, it compliments and encourages them; whereas, if you
appeared to pay no regard to their opinions, they would naturally feel
neglected. A little judicious indirect flattery is of great use in
managing one's household. So I put on my best air of injured innocence.

"Mabel, I wish you could tell me what is the matter. Here my guest
leaves my house suddenly, without a word of explanation. Herbert must be
right: what has Clarice done to him?"

"Robert, I told you that all was well; at least I trust it will be,
though it may not seem so now. The leaven is working; leave it to Time.
Above all, don't meddle; ask no questions; leave the matter to those who
understand it."

Now does she mean herself and Jane by that, or only Clarice and Hartman?
I wonder if she thinks that I think that she knows anything about it.
If she did, I should catch some sign of it. I tried my sister.

"Jane, don't fly at me now, please. I am in trouble."

"So are we all, brother. Trouble not of our own making--most of us."

"Well then, what does all this secrecy mean? Has Clarice spoken to you?
What does Mabel know?"

"She knows no more than you and I, brother. Something has happened: any
one may suspect what it is, but Clarice will not tell. I love and
respect her too much to ask: so does Mabel; and so, I hope, do you."

"Well, it's confounded hard lines, Jane, to have these things happening
in your own house, and such a mystery made of it." I had to grumble to
somebody, you see, if only to keep up appearances and help hide my
guilty secret; and then I _was_ bored, and worse, with the way things
had gone.

"You took that risk, Robert, when you brought them together here. Did
you expect that two such persons as they would agree easily and at once?
I think they love each other, or were in a way to it when this occurred,
whatever it was."

"Well, I am awfully sorry. Clarice can take care of herself, I suppose;
but as for Hartman, he had load enough to carry before. I love that man,
Jane."

"So do I, Robert."

"Eh? O, the devil you do!" This came out before I could stop it. It did
not please her.

"Brother, you are simply scandalous. Will you never learn a decent
respect for women--you with a wife of your own, and boys growing up?
Where have you been to acquire such ideas and such manners? You might
have live