"But she may have suffered. I can readily believe she has suffered from that same want of charity in others. There is nothing like a personal defect to make one sensitive. Think of the averted looks she must have met from many thoughtless persons; and she almost a beauty!" "Yes, that _almost_ is tragic." "It can excuse much." Edgar shook his head. "Think what you are doing, Frank, that's all. _I_ should hesitate in making the acquaintance of one who for _any_ reason has shut herself away from the world." "Is not her whim shared by her sister?" "They say so." "Then there are two whose acquaintance you would hesitate to make?" "Certainly, if I had any ulterior purpose beyond that of mere acquaintanceship." "Her sister has no scar?" Edgar, weary, perhaps, of the conversation, did not answer. "Why should she shut herself up?" mused Frank, too interested in the subject to note the other's silence. "Women are mysteries," quoth Edgar, shortly. "But this is more than a mystery," cried Frank. "Whim will not account for it. There must be something in the history of these two girls which the world does not know." "That is not the fault of the world," retorted Edgar, in his usual vein of sarcasm. But Frank was reckless. "The world is right to be interested," he avowed. "It would take a very cold heart not to be moved with curiosity by such a fact as two girls secluding themselves in their own house, without any manifest reason. Are _you_ not moved by it, Edgar? Are you, indeed, as indifferent as you seem?" "I should like to know why they do this, of course, but I shall not busy myself to find out. I have much else to do." "Well, I have not. It is the one thing in life for me; so look out for some great piece of audacity on my part, for speak to her I will, and that, too, before I leave the town." "I do not see how you will manage that, Frank." "You forget I am a lawyer." Yet for all the assurance manifested by this speech, it was some time before Frank could see his way clearly to what he desired. A dozen plans were made and dismissed as futile before he finally determined to seek the assistance of a fellow-lawyer whose name he had seen in the window of the one brick building in the principal street. "Through him," thought he, "I may light upon some business which will enable me to request with propriety an interview with Miss Cavanagh." Yet his heart failed him as he went up the steps of Mr. Hamilton's office, and if that gentleman, upon presenting himself, had been a young man, Frank would certainly have made some excuse for his intrusion, and retired. But he was old and white-haired and benignant, and so Frank was lured into introducing himself as a young lawyer from New York, engaged in finding the whereabouts of one Harriet Smith, a former resident of Marston. Mr. Hamilton, who could not fail to be impressed by Etheridge's sterling appearance, met him with cordiality.