THE KINGDOM OF THE BLIND MARJORIE saw them at the same instant and for a second faltered, then stepped quietly forward to meet them. “Good evening,” she said. “Janet, here are the truants. I think you are to take me out to dinner, Dr. Potter,” and the hand she placed on the physician’s arm was steady. Duncan, collecting his scattered wits, offered his arm to the pretty girl Janet had assigned to him, and followed the others out to the dining-room. Judging from appearances his father and Janet had accepted Marjorie’s return without audible comment. Janet, confused by the rapid trend of events, had quickly decided to let well enough alone. She feared to precipitate a disastrous scene if she asked Marjorie to withdraw. Her father, a complete man of the world, had quickly made up his mind to accept the situation, and postponed questioning Marjorie as to her disappearance and return until after the dinner was over. Inwardly cursing his luck that he was not seated next to Marjorie so that he could question her and tell her of his discovery as to how the Lawrence codicil was lost, Duncan took the chair next his companion with an ill grace. There was some confusion in seating the guests, owing to Janet’s having changed her father’s accustomed seat at the end to one side of the long table. Paul Potter seized the opportunity to draw his host to one side. “Has Janet had any return of----” he lowered his voice discreetly----“of the old trouble about which you consulted me when she was at boarding-school?” Fordyce started. “Not to my knowledge,” he whispered. “What do you....” But Potter had slipped into his chair between Janet and Marjorie, and cogitating deeply, Fordyce made his way to his own place. Leisurely unfolding his napkin, Potter looked with interest about the table. “Take pity on a stranger, Miss Langdon, and tell me the names of my fellow guests,” he said. “I came into the drawing-room too late to meet them.” “Captain Nichols is on Janet’s right; next to him is Miss Pauline Calhoun-Cooper; the girl on Mr. Calderon Fordyce’s right is Miss Swann, of Baltimore. Isn’t she pretty?” added Marjorie. “The others are Miss Marsh, Miss Dodge, and my neighbor here, Mr. Calhoun-Cooper,” indicating Joe with a motion of her hand. “You have skipped the man sitting opposite you,” prompted Potter. The table, a recent purchase of Mr. Fordyce’s who never tired of haunting antique shops, was wide enough to permit two seats being placed side by side at either end, and as Marjorie’s eyes traveled down the long expanse of damask and its load of silver and glass she encountered Barnard’s fixed stare. She acknowledged his low bow with a slight inclination of her head, and turned again to Potter. “Chichester Barnard,” she said briefly. “Have you met Mr. Calhoun-Cooper, Dr. Potter,” she added as Joe, catching his name, wheeled toward her and through several courses the two men talked with her.