While she was engaged in defining her suspicion to herself, and concerting measures for gathering information with regard to it, Mrs. Hunt went out on some household errand, and Lucy was obliged to descend to the parlor to see callers. "Don't go until I come back, Vic.. It is the Dunhams, and they never stay long," she said, at quitting her associate. "Oh, I always make myself at home here, you know, my dear!" was the reply. Jeannie was sitting on a cushion near the chair Sarah had occupied, dressing her doll. "It won't fit!" she cried, fretfully, snatching off a velvet basque she had been endeavoring to adjust to the lay-figure. "Bring it to me! I can fix it!" offered Victoria, winningly. "It's too tight just here, you see. I will rip open the seam and alter it. Who makes your dolly's clothes?" She was well aware that but one member of the family ever had leisure to bestow upon such follies; but it suited her plan for Jeannie to introduce the name. "Sister Sarah." "This is a pretty basque. When did she make it?" "Yesterday." "Oh! I thought perhaps she did it while you were in the country, and that the doll had fattened as much as you did there." Jeannie laughed heartily. "You had a nice time there, I suppose?" pursued Victoria. "I guess we did!" Her eyes danced at the recollection. "A splendid time! I wish we lived at Aunt Sarah's! There isn't room for me to move in this narrow house." "Mr. Benson was there a day or two, was he not?" "Yes, ma'am--a great many days! He took us all around the country in Uncle Nathan's carriage. I love him very dearly." "Did you ever go sailing with him?" "Every evening, when it was clear, in a pretty rowboat. He used to take his guitar along, and sing for us. He sings beautifully! Did you ever hear him?" "Oh, yes! Did your sister always go boating with you?" The spy, with all her hardihood, lowered her voice, and felt her face warm as she put this leading question. "Yes, ma'am, always. Mr. Benson would not have gone without her, I guess." "Why do you guess so?" The little girl smiled knowingly. "Because--you won't tell, will you?" "Why no! Of course I will not." "Charley said it was a secret, and that I mustn't say anything to sister or Mr. Benson about it, for they would be angry." "Who is Charley?" "Don't you know? He is Aunt Sarah's son. He is deaf and dumb; but he showed me how to spell on my fingers. He is a nice boy"-- "Yes; but what was the secret?"