"And just think of it, Lucy--Ritta Claiborne sits there and plays the piano for old Silas, and sometimes Eugenia goes in and sings, and she has a beautiful voice; I'm not too deaf to know that." It was then that Mrs. Lumsden leaned over and gave the ear-trumpet some very good advice. "If I were in your place, Polly, I wouldn't tell this to any one else. Mrs. Claiborne is an excellent woman; she comes of a good family, and she is cultured and refined. No doubt she is sensitive, and if she heard that you were spreading your suspicions abroad, she would hardly feel like staying in a house where----" Mrs. Lumsden paused. She had it on her tongue's-end to say, "in a house where she is spied upon," but she had no desire in the world to offend that simple-minded old soul, who, behind all her peculiarities and afflictions, had a very tender heart. "I know what you mean, Lucy," said Miss Polly, "and your advice is good; but I can't help seeing what goes on under my eyes, and I thought there could be no harm in telling you about it. I am very fond of Ritta Claiborne, and as for Eugenia, why she is simply angelic. I love that child as well as if she were my own. If there's a flaw in her character, I have never found it. I'll say that much." The explanation of Miss Polly's suspicions is not as simple as her recital of them. No one can account for some of the impulses of the human heart, or the vagaries of the human mind. It is easy to say that after Silas Tomlin had his last interview with Mrs. Claiborne, he permitted his mind to dwell on her personality and surroundings, and so fell gradually under a spell. Such an explanation is not only easy to imagine, but it is plausible; nevertheless, it would not be true. There is a sort of tradition among the brethren who deal with character in fiction that it must be consistent with itself. This may be necessary in books, for it sweeps away at one stroke ten thousand mysteries and problems that play around the actions of every individual, no matter how high, no matter how humble. How often do we hear it remarked in real life that the actions of such and such an individual are a source of surprise and regret to his friends; and how often in our own experience have we been shocked by the unexpected as it crops out in the actions of our friends and acquaintances! For this and other reasons this chronicler does not propose to explain Silas's motives and movements and try to show that they are all consistent with his character, and that, therefore, they were all to be predicated from the beginning. What is certainly true is that Silas was one day stopped in the street by Eugenia, who inquired about Paul. He looked at the girl very gloomily at first, but when he began to talk about the troubles of his son, he thawed out considerably. In this case Eugenia's sympathies abounded, in fact were unlimited, and she listened with dewy eyes to everything Silas would tell her about Paul.