detected a tone of reproval in his words. Had she
been a thoroughly wise woman that note of warning would have served to
make her desist, but she was not to be baffled, when once she had
determined to learn the meaning of anything that had aroused her
curiosity or excited her suspicion. So instead of abandoning the
subject, and welcoming her husband with an effusiveness which would
have smoothed the wrinkles from his forehead, she turned upon him
almost angrily, and said:

"Why do you prompt him? Is he an idiot that he cannot tell his name?"

"Not at all," said the Doctor, hopeful of dispersing the threatened
storm, and therefore becoming slightly explanatory and conciliatory.
"You have evidently confused Mr. Grath by your manner of questioning
him, that is all. He is a country boy, unused to city ways, and you
must excuse him if he is not as ready with an answer, as he will be
after we make a citizen of him."

"He must be from the country indeed," was the sneering reply. "He must
have been raised in a forest, to be so confused because I ask him his
name." Then altering her tone, and speaking more rapidly, she
continued: "Do not think that your wife is a fool, Dr. Medjora. Even a
dog knows his name. There is something about this that you wish to
hide from me. But I will not submit to it. You shall not bring any
nameless beggars into my house!"

Leon uttered a cry as though wounded, and started to leave the
apartment, but the Doctor, livid with anger, detained him by clutching
his arm, as he would have passed, and turning upon his wife uttered
but one word:

"Cora!"

That was all, but his voice implied such a threat, that the woman
shrunk back, awed, and frightened, and utterly subdued, she merely
murmured:

"Emanuel, forgive me!"

"Go to your room!" ejaculated the Doctor, sternly, and after one
appealing glance at him, which he ignored, she swiftly glided through
the door, and closed it softly after her. Thus the two men were left
to themselves. Leon was the first to speak:

"Dr. Medjora," he began, "I thank you most heartily for what you have
intended to do for me, but we have made a mistake. I cannot enter your
home now. I can never hope that your wife will forget what has
occurred to-day. Therefore were I to remain, my presence must become
intolerably obnoxious to her; and her unhappiness would be but a
blight upon your own peace."

"Perhaps you are right," said the Doctor quietly, and as though
medit