e also likely to discover the true nature of the romance in Mr.
Gracedieu's life.'--Isn't that very remarkable, Euneece? You don't seem
to see it--you funny child! Pray pay particular attention to what comes
next. These are the closing sentences in my friend's letter:

"'If you find anything new to tell me which relates to this interesting
subject, direct your letter as before--provided you write within a week
from the present time. Afterward, my letters will be received by the
English physician whose card I inclose. You will be pleased to hear that
my professional interests call me to London at the earliest moment that
I can spare.'--There, dear child, the letter comes to an end. I daresay
you wonder what Mrs. T. means, when she alludes to her professional
interests?"

No: I was not wondering about anything. It hurt me to hear of a strange
woman exercising her ingenuity in guessing at mysteries in papa's life.

But Miss Jillgall was too eagerly bent on setting forth the merits
of her friend to notice this. I now heard that Mrs. T.'s marriage had
turned out badly, and that she had been reduced to earn her own bread.
Her manner of doing this was something quite new to me. She went
about, from one place to another, curing people of all sorts of painful
maladies, by a way she had of rubbing them with her hands. In Belgium
she was called a "Masseuse." When I asked what this meant in English,
I was told, "Medical Rubber," and that the fame of Mrs. T.'s wonderful
cures had reached some of the medical newspapers published in London.

After listening (I must say for myself) very patiently, I was bold
enough to own that my interest in what I had just heard was not quite so
plain to me as I could have wished it to be.

Miss Jillgall looked shocked at my stupidity. She reminded me that
there was a mystery in Mrs. Tenbruggen's letter and a mystery in papa's
strange conduct toward Philip. "Put two and two together, darling," she
said; "and, one of these days, they may make four."

If this meant anything, it meant that the reason which made papa keep
Helena's age and my age unknown to everybody but himself, was also the
reason why he seemed to be so strangely unwilling to let me be Philip's
wife. I really could not endure to take such a view of it as that, and
begged Miss Jillgall to drop the subject. She was as kind as ever.

"With all my heart, dear. But don't deceive yourself--the subject will
turn up again when we least exp