bmitted to be set right with ironical resignation. "I am all
attention," he said, threading his needle. "Pray go on; I won't
interrupt you again." Acting on this invitation, I told him the truth
about my husband and myself quite unreservedly, taking care, however,
at the same time, to put Eustace's motives in the best light that they
would bear. Miserrimus Dexter dropped his embroidery on his lap, and
laughed softly to himself, with an impish enjoyment of my poor little
narrative, which set every nerve in me on edge as I looked at him.

"I see nothing to laugh at," I said, sharply.

His beautiful blue eyes rested on me with a look of innocent surprise.

"Nothing to laugh at," he repeated, "in such an exhibition of human
folly as you have just described?" His expression suddenly changed his
face darkened and hardened very strangely. "Stop!" he cried, before I
could answer him. "There can be only one reason for you're taking it as
seriously as you do. Mrs. Valeria! you are fond of your husband."

"Fond of him isn't strong enough to express it," I retorted. "I love him
with my whole heart."

Miserrimus Dexter stroked his magnificent beard, and contemplatively
repeated my words. "You love him with your whole heart? Do you know
why?"

"Because I can't help it," I answered, doggedly.

He smiled satirically, and went on with his embroidery. "Curious!" he
said to himself; "Eustace's first wife loved him too. There are some men
whom the women all like, and there are other men whom the women never
care for. Without the least reason for it in either case. The one man is
just as good as the other; just as handsome, as agreeable, as honorable,
and as high in rank as the other. And yet for Number One they will go
through fire and water, and for Number Two they won't so much as turn
their heads to look at him. Why? They don't know themselves--as Mrs.
Valeria has just said! Is there a physical reason for it? Is there
some potent magnetic emanation from Number One which Number Two doesn't
possess? I must investigate this when I have the time, and when I find
myself in the humor." Having so far settled the question to his own
entire satisfaction, he looked up at me again. "I am still in the dark
about you and your motives," he said. "I am still as far as ever from
understanding what your interest is in investigating that hideous
tragedy at Gleninch. Clever Mrs. Valeria, please take me by the hand,
and lead me into the light. You'r