She was surprised to find that Mr. Brand was lounging about the hall as she came out, and that he not only opened the door for her but accompanied her to the garden gate. He did not speak for a minute or two, and Janetta, not seeing her way clear to any remarks of her own, wondered whether they were to walk side by side to the gate in utter silence. Presently, however, he said, abruptly. "I have not yet heard to whom I am indebted for the appearance of that little boy in my house." "I am not exactly responsible," said Janetta, "I only found him outside and brought him in to make inquiries. My name is Janetta Colwyn." "Colwyn? What? the doctor's daughter?" "Yes, the doctor's daughter," said Janetta, smiling frankly at him, "and your second cousin." Wyvis Brand's hand went up to his hat, which he lifted ceremoniously. "I wish I had had the introduction earlier," he said, in a much pleasanter tone. Janetta could not exactly echo the sentiment, and therefore maintained a discreet silence. "You must have thought me a great brute," said Wyvis, with some sensitiveness in his tone. "Oh, no: I quite saw how difficult it was for you to understand who I was, and how it had all come about." "You saw a great deal, then." "Oh, I know that it sounds impertinent to say so," Janetta answered, blushing a little and walking a trifle faster, "but I did not mean it rudely, I assure you." He seemed to take no notice. He was looking straight before him, with a somewhat sombre expression in his fine dark eyes. "What you could not see," he said, perhaps more to himself than to her, "was what no one will ever guess. Nobody knows what the last few years have been to me. My mother has seen more of it than any one else, but even to her my life has been something of a mystery--a sealed book. You should remember this--remember all that I have passed through--before you blame me for the way in which I received that child to-day." "I did not blame you," said Janetta, eagerly. "I only felt that there was a great deal which I could not understand." He turned his gloomy eyes upon her. "Just so," he said. "You cannot understand. And it is useless for you to try." "I am very sorry," Janetta faltered, scarcely knowing why she said so. Wyvis laughed. "Don't trouble to be sorry over my affairs," he said. "They are not worth sorrow, I assure you. But--if I may make one request--will you kindly keep silence (except, of course, to your parents) about this episode? I do not want people to begin gossiping about that unhappy woman who has the right, unfortunately, to call herself my wife." Janetta promised, and with her promise the garden gate was reached, and the interview came to an end. CHAPTER IX. CONSULTATION.