Then she went down the office steps. Dr. Green let her go alone. When she had gone, he sat and looked about. "The little monkey!" said he, aloud. Then suddenly he rose with a mighty spring and opened the door. Though the hour was late he strode up the street toward the college. At Thomasina's he glanced in, but the house was dark. As he went through the campus gate, he saw that there was a light in Dr. Lister's study; it might be that she was there--if so, well and good; it would save him some words. In Dr. Lister's study Richard and his father and mother and Thomasina sat together. There were traces of tears on Mrs. Lister's face, as was natural to one who was bidding farewell this evening to a happy era. Dr. Lister swung his foot rapidly; he anticipated with delight his journey to New York. Thomasina sat with Richard on the sofa. He was thin; his boyish good looks were gone, but good looks of a better sort had come to take their place. He discussed impersonal matters with a manly air. All four were glad to see Dr. Green. The moments had grown a little difficult and Thomasina took advantage of his coming to make her adieux. "I'll see you next month, my dear. If I can persuade your mother to come, too, we'll have a fine time." Green's tall figure barred the way to the hall. "Please wait a minute, Miss Thomasina," said he. "I have something to say to all of you and it is easier to say it to all of you together. Miss Thomasina told me some days ago that you, Mrs. Lister, have been misled by several coincidences into thinking that Eleanor Bent was the daughter of your brother Basil." Mrs. Lister looked aghast. "That is a great mistake," said Dr. Green. "Eleanor Bent is my daughter. I fell in love with her mother when I was here and followed her away. Before Eleanor was born, we separated, and when I came here to practice I found them. Her mother was established and was not willing to readjust her life and I deferred to her. It was an absurd mistake. Eleanor's ideas of a departed parent were already fixed; otherwise it would have been more absurd." Having finished his speech, Dr. Green was left without a response. One would have thought that he had stricken his audience dumb. After a long time Dr. Lister swung his right knee over his left. "Mrs. Lister thought she resembled her brother," said he. "She resembles _me_," said Dr. Green. "But her talent!" said Mrs. Lister, beginning to cry. Green smiled grimly. "That couldn't have been inherited from me, I suppose?" said he. "I asked Mrs. Bent about Basil Everman. She said that she had been persecuted by John Bates, then sinking into debauchery, and that your brother had protected her. She looked upon him as a sort of Saint George." "Oh! oh! oh!" wept Mary Alcestis. Richard rose to his feet. "Does Eleanor know this?" he demanded. "She knows now," said Dr. Green sorely. "By Gad, you've got her into a pretty mess between you!" said Richard.