The name was repeated. He listened to a long discourse on certain school day friendships, succeeded by a period of separation in which the subject of all this interest had traveled abroad with her mother, completing an education that, if one were to judge from the descriptions volunteered by her former classmates, gave small promise in the beginning of attaining much beyond the commonplace. "She was a dreadfully stupid girl at Miss Ralston's," proclaimed Miss Baltimore. "Wasn't she, Nell?" "Indeed she was. She--" The master of Jenison Hall was staring across the room in the direction of the register. He interrupted again. "Grand? Are there many Grands in Baltimore?" he asked. "Why are you so interested, Dave?" demanded one of the men. "I once knew a man from Baltimore whose name was Grand, that's all. I'm wondering if she can be--" "Her father is Colonel Robert Grand. He's the great racehorse man. Every one knows _him,_" said one of the Baltimore girls. "Colonel Bob Grand?" "Yes. Of course he and Mrs. Grand don't live together any longer. They were divorced about five years ago. Didn't you see the account of it in the Richmond papers? It seems that he ran off with an actress--to London, they say. Oh, I don't remember all the details. Mother wouldn't let us read the stuff in the papers. But I do remember that he bought a house in London for the woman and he never even fought the divorce. He treated Mrs. Grand shamefully, I know that much. Father says he is a terrible man." David Jenison was very pale and very still. He did not take his eyes from the face of the speaker. "Who was this actress?" asked some one. He went very cold. He tried to close his ears against a name he dreaded to hear on the lips of the fair gossip. "I don't know. Some one you never heard of. Just a common, ordinary actress, as I remember." Jenison abruptly left the group and strode out upon the porch, leaving the others to puzzle themselves over his unexpected defection.