nce, gently. "You are not intruding,
Frank."

"Thank you." He came forward, and sank listlessly into a chair.
"Constance, who brought you this news about--Sybil?"

Constance glanced toward the detective, and Francis, interpreting the
look, hastened to say:

"It is known to Mr. Belknap, I presume--this shameful business. There is
no use of secrecy, where all the world is already agape. My sister, you
tell me, has eloped with a low brute. I am numbed with the horror of it.
But I must hear it all; every word, every particular. Who brought you
the news, Constance?"

"Doctor Heath," replied the girl, icily.

"Ah!"

The interjection came through shut teeth, and just for a moment the
dark shadow flitted across his features; then he said, with quiet
composure:

"Heath? ah, yes; and he gave you all the particulars,--all that he had
gathered?"

"Doctor Heath told me all that he had learned," she replied, still
coldly.

Frank Lamotte arose slowly, wearily.

"I must see Heath," he said, taking up his hat. "It is small wonder that
you speak so frostily to the brother of a girl who has disgraced
herself, Constance. However, I realize my fall; henceforth, I know my
place."

The detective arose and moved uneasily to the window.

"I am sorry to hear this absurdity, Frank," said Constance, with some
severity. "You know my position always in these matters; only yourself
can injure yourself in my eyes; and I am sorry to hear you speak thus of
Sybil. I have yet to be convinced that in some manner, she is not more a
victim than disloyal. _I_ have not condemned her; why should you, her
brother?"

A hot flush came over the young man's face, and his eyes glowed with a
strange light. He shifted his position uneasily; then, abruptly, he
turned to the detective.

"If under the circumstances, and having seen my mood, you care to accept
my hospitality, it is still extended, sir," he said, somewhat awkwardly;
"will you accompany me to town, and afterwards lunch with me?"

"I will accompany you to the town," replied the detective, coming back
from the window; "but I fear I must decline your hospitality for to-day;
another time, perhaps."

Francis bowed stiffly, then turned to Constance.

"Constance, good bye," he said, mournfully, and holding out his hand. "I
will not displease you again; I will keep at a safe distance."

"You will displease me by doing that," she replied, kindly, at the same
time extending her hand. "I mean