“You may recall, Jack, that the Silent Tomb was equally perplexed on the same point, and that when I asked him ‘Mary or Lucy?’ he amazed our whole circle by bursting into a laugh. Then the wretch, in repeating the names after me, so carefully abstained from placing the accent of astonishment on either, that not even a professional piano-tuner could have detected any difference in the sounds—oh, the artesian well! I remembered this. The Don had expressed no surprise when I named Mary Rolfe; probably, then, it was the mention of Lucy that had amazed the S. T. It flashed across my female mind, in the tenth part of a second, how singularly Mr. Frobisher had acted, after the first flush of astonishment was over,—how he pursed up his brow, gazed far away, in fact, mooned around in the most absurd fashion, instead of telling me all about it at once. Would the Don, too, laugh, when I mentioned Lucy’s name? “‘We do you that honor, at any rate,’ said I. “‘We? Who are we? Which of you belong to the Rolfe faction, and which to—you have not mentioned the name of the other dear charmer?’ “‘Well, so and so are for Mary, and so and so for the other.’ “‘Her name? But one moment,—Miss Rolfe herself—you failed to place _her_. Would it be a breach of confidence to do so?’ “‘She has not taken me into her confidence; therefore I have the right to make what surmises I choose. I place her between the two. She does not know what to think.’ “Again he snapped his head backwards, as though he said that he would settle that shortly. Tranquillized, he relit his cigar, which had gone out, and again lolled back; and cocking up his cigar in the corner of his mouth, asked. ‘And the other?’ “‘Guess,’ said I. “Dropping his chin on his breast, with a quiet smile, he pretended to reflect for a moment. ‘I am afraid I shall have to give it up. Oh, how dull I have been! How intolerably stupid!’ And placing his hand on his heart, he made me a low bow; then throwing back his head, with a merry laugh, ‘Capital, capital!’ he ejaculated. “‘No,’ said I, ‘her name is not Alice. Guess again.’ “A flash of surprise followed by a look of rising curiosity. ‘Really, you perplex me!’ “‘You cannot recall any of the girls except Mary, in whom you have shown marked interest?’—he shook his head—‘an ever increasing interest?’ ‘An ever increasing interest?’ repeated he, opening his eyes wide upon me; then, looking upon the ground, he appeared to reflect. ‘Not Miss Kitty? No? Nor Miss Jennie? Not Miss Jennie either! Upon my word! But you _seem_ serious; are you really?’ “‘I am. You cannot think of any girl whom you have visited again and again, of late?’ “‘_Visited!_’ exclaimed he. ‘Why, then she is not one of our Elmington guests!’ “I fixed my eyes upon him, and saw nothing, though I had always thought him as transparent as glass. It was my turn now to be bewildered. ‘What!’ I exclaimed, ‘can’t you guess, _now_, to whom I allude?’