"

"On the contrary, nothing is impossible," responded the other,
impatiently. "College professors, delicate ladies, children not yet in
their teens, have committed homicide, why not this handsome gentleman in
the wool business? Or if you _won't_ have murder--and I agree that blood
is rather tiresome, it has been overdone so much--bring a woman into the
case. Let us have a betrayal, a wronged virgin, and that sort of thing."

The color did not return to the young man's cheek.

"Which is still more incredible in the present case," he said. "Do you
think Wilton Fern could do evil to a woman? Look in his face once and
dismiss that libel within the second."

A desperate expression crossed the countenance of the elder man.

"You must agree that he has done something!" he cried. "He wouldn't
allow a darkey to annoy him like this for fun, would he? He wouldn't
wear that deathly look, and let his child grow thin with worriment, just
as a matter of amusement!"

To this Roseleaf could not formulate a suitable answer. He felt the
force of the suggestions, but he would not associate crime with the
sedate gentleman who was the object of these suspicions. He simply could
not think of anything disreputable in connection with Daisy's father,
and it seemed almost as bad to invent an offense for the character in
his novel whose photograph he had thus far taken from Mr. Fern.

Daisy was surprised, a month after this, to have Mr. Weil stop her in
the hallway, and speak with a new abruptness.

"Why don't that cursed nigger start for Europe?" he asked.

She glanced around her with a frightened look. She feared ears that
should not might hear them. But she rallied as she reflected that
Hannibal was miles away, in fact in the city with her father.

"He is going soon," she replied. "But why do you allude to him by that
harsh term? I thought you rather liked him."

"I do," he answered. "I like him so well that if he continues to talk
to--to your father--as I heard him the other day, I will throw him into
the Hudson: I can't stand by and see him insult an--an old man--much
longer."

The girl looked at him with sad eyes.

"I thought I had succeeded in silencing that kind of talk," she said.
"Mr. Roseleaf used to speak very violently of Hannibal, but he has
listened to reason of late. Let me beg you to see nothing and hear
nothing, if you are the friend of this family you have given us reason
to believe."

She extended her hand, as