ners: he
helped his mother out of her carriage with all the air of a man of
the world, and bowed to me as to a duchess. I think he might be a
great influence for good if the dear Villards would but sometimes
let him associate a little with our unfortunate Hedrick. Egerton
Villard is really _distingue_; he has a beautiful head; and if he
could be induced but to let Hedrick follow him about but a
little----"

"I'll beat his beautiful head off for him if he but butts in on me
but a little!" Hedrick promised earnestly. "Idiot!"

Cora turned toward him innocently. "What did you say, Hedrick?"

"I said `Idiot'!"

"You mean Egerton Villard?"

"Both of you!"

"You think I'm an idiot, Hedrick?" Her tone was calm, merely
inquisitive.

"Yes, I do!"

"Oh, no," she said pleasantly. "Don't you think if I were _really_
an idiot I'd be even fonder of you than I am?"

It took his breath. In a panic he sat waiting he knew not what;
but Cora blandly resumed her interrupted remarks to her mother,
beginning a description of Mrs. Villard's dress; Laura was talking
unconcernedly to Miss Peirce; no one appeared to be aware that
anything unusual had been said. His breath came back, and,
summoning his presence of mind, he found himself able to consider
his position with some degree of assurance. Perhaps, after all,
Cora's retort had been merely a coincidence. He went over and over
it in his mind, making a pretence, meanwhile, to be busy with his
plate. "If I were _really_ an idiot." . . . It was the "_really_"
that troubled him. But for that one word, he could have decided
that her remark was a coincidence; but "_really_" was ominous; had
a sinister ring. "If I were _really_ an idiot!" Suddenly the
pleasant clouds that had obscured his memory of the fatal evening
were swept away as by a monstrous Hand: it all came back to him
with sickening clearness. So is it always with the sinner with his
sin and its threatened discovery. Again, in his miserable mind, he
sat beside Lolita on the fence, with the moon shining through her
hair; and he knew--for he had often read it--that a man could be
punished his whole life through for a single moment's weakness. A
man might become rich, great, honoured, and have a large family,
but his one soft sin would follow him, hunt him out and pull him
down at last. "_Really_ an idiot!" Did that relentless Comanche,
Cora, know this Thing? He shuddered. Then he fell back upon his
faith in Providence. It _c