"Who has been slandering me?" he demanded, angered suddenly by her retort. "I have stood in a relation to you which gives me a right to demand the name." "What relation to me?--Where is your wife?" His face whitened, and he drew in his breath as if struck a blow,--a long breath,--but in a second he had recovered himself, and he burst into a laugh. "So you have heard that old story--and believe it?" he said, with his eyes looking straight into hers. As she made no answer, he went on. "Now, as you have heard it, I will explain the whole thing to you. I have always wanted to do it; but--but--I hardly knew whether it were better to do it or leave it alone. I thought if you had heard it you would mention it to me--" "I have done so now," she said coldly. "I thought our relation--or, as you object to that word, our friendship--entitled me to that much from you." "I never heard it till--till just now," she defended, rather shaken by his tone and air of candor. "When? "Oh--very recently." "Won't you tell me who told you?" "No--o. Go on." "Well, that woman--that poor girl--her name was--her name is--Phrony Tripper--or Trimmer. I think that was her name--she called herself Euphronia Tripper." He was trying with puckered brow to recall exactly. "I suppose that is the woman you are referring to?" he said suddenly. "It is. You have not had more than one, have you?" He laughed, pleased to give the subject a lighter tone. "Well, this poor creature I used to know in the South when I was a boy--when I first went down there, you know? She was the daughter of an old farmer at whose house we stayed. I used to talk to her. You know how a boy talks to a pretty girl whom he is thrown with in a lonesome old country place, far from any amusement." Her eyes showed that she knew, and he was satisfied and proceeded. "But heavens! the idea of being in love with her! Why, she was the daughter of a farmer. Well, then I fell in with her afterwards--once or twice, to be accurate--when I went down there on business, and she was a pretty, vain country girl--" "I used to know her," assented Mrs. Lancaster. "You did!" His face fell. "Yes; when I went there to a little Winter resort for my throat--when I was seventeen. She used to go to the school taught by Mr. Keith." "She did? Oh, then you know her name? It was Tripper, wasn't it?" She nodded.