“I know; but one has so much more freedom in one’s own home,” Editha said, disappointed. Hotel life was always obnoxious to her, and her father knew it, too. But her preferences were of minor importance to him. “Yes,” he said; “but there is a great deal of care in providing for a family, and I shall get rid of all that if we board. I propose that we rent the house for awhile; it will give us a snug little sum, and it will be more economical to live this way.” Editha opened her eyes wide at this new departure. She had never heard her father preach economy before; but she saw at once where the advantage was coming, and in her heart she grew very indignant toward him. If he rented the house it would indeed bring _him_ a handsome sum, which he would pocket, while the hotel bill would doubtless come out of her income; but though she read him correctly, in a measure, she did not give him credit for the deep scheme he had in mind. He thought that Mr. Tressalia, on finding that they had again taken French leave, would try to find them, and follow them as he had done before; and if he, with madam and her brother, should take a notion to seek them there in the city, and should find their house either closed or rented, they would come to the conclusion that they were still absent at some summer resort, and go away again. Thus he would escape them entirely. But the matter ended, as all such matters ended, in Editha’s yielding assent. * * * * * Some things in Editha’s story had moved Madam Sylvester deeply, and she passed a sleepless night after her return to the hotel on the night of the garden-party. She lay reviewing all the ground, recalling little items which at the time possessed no significance to her, but which now impressed her powerfully; she thought of the strange attraction she felt toward the young girl, and revolved many other things of which only she and her brother knew anything about, until it seemed as if she could not wait for morning to come. As soon as Mr. Tressalia made his appearance she sought him and asked him a few questions that she had intended asking Editha the night before, but had not had an opportunity, and the effect which his answers produced upon her startled him not a little. She lost her self-possession entirely, trembled, and grew frightfully pale, while the tears fairly rained over her fine face as, grasping both his hands in hers, she exclaimed: “My friend Paul, you have proved yourself a good _genie_ more than once; and now shall I tell you something you will like to know?” Of course he was very curious about the matter; but the nature of the secret cannot be disclosed just here, although he deemed it of so much importance that he felt justified in seeking Mr. Dalton at once, to demand an explanation regarding some things that had occurred during his early life.