nsidered it advisable to retire at once.

Charles and Marston were talking together earnestly in the passage.

"He does not believe a word I say," said Charles, as I joined them;
"and, what is more, I could see he had told Ralph he suspected me before
we came in. Did not you see how Ralph tried to stop me when he thought I
was committing myself by accusing Carr, who, it seems, was quite out of
the question? I am glad you cut it short, Marston. He was making himself
worse every moment."

"Come on with that key of yours, and let us go and let out Carr,"
replied Marston, patting Charles kindly on the back, "or he will be
kicking all the paint off the door."

"Not he!" said Charles. "An honest man would have rung up the whole
household and nearly battered the door down by this time, thinking it
had been locked by mistake. Carr knows better."

We had reached the smoking-room by this time, just as the gong was
beginning to sound for luncheon, and under cover of the noise Charles
fitted the key into the key-hole and unlocked the door. He and Marston
went slowly in, talking on some indifferent subject, and I followed.

CHAPTER X

The room seemed strangely quiet after the stormy interview in the
sick-chamber which we had just left. The pale winter sunlight was
stealing in aslant through the low windows. The fire had sunk to a deep
red glow, and in an arm-chair drawn up in front of it, newspaper in
hand, was Carr, evidently fast asleep.

"'Oh, my prophetic soul!'" whispered Charles, nudging Marston; and then
he went forward and shouted "Luncheon!" in a voice that would have waked
the dead.

Carr started up and rubbed his eyes.

"Why, I believe you have been here ever since I left you here, hours
ago," said Charles, in a surprised tone, though really, under the
circumstances, it did not require a great stretch of the imagination to
suppose any such thing.

"Yes," said Carr, still rubbing his eyes. "Have you been gone long? I
expect I fell asleep."

"I rather thought you were inclined for a nap when I left you," replied
Charles, airily; "and now let us go to luncheon."

It was a very dismal meal. Lady Mary did not come down to it, and
Aurelia sat with red eyes, tearful and silent. Ralph was evidently out
of favor, for she hardly spoke to him, and snubbed him decidedly when he
humbly tendered a peace-offering in the form of a potato. Evelyn, too,
was silent, or made spasmodic attempts at conversation with Mrs