However, one person in that group must have listened with genuine
pleasure--else why did he talk?

It was the returned native whose departure at last rang the
curtain on the monologue. The end of the long sheltered seclusion
of Cora and her companion was a whispered word. He spoke it first:

"To-morrow?"

"To-morrow."

Cora gave a keen, quick, indrawn sigh--not of sorrow--and sank
back in her chair, as he touched her hand in farewell and rose to
go. She remained where she was, motionless and silent in the dark,
while he crossed to Mrs. Madison, and prefaced a leave-taking
unusually formal for these precincts with his mannered bow. He
shook hands with Richard Lindley, asking genially:

"Do you still live where you did--just below here?"

"Yes."

"When I passed by there this afternoon," said Corliss, "it
recalled a stupendous conflict we had, once upon a time; but I
couldn't remember the cause."

"I remember the cause," said Mr. Lindley, but, stopping rather
short, omitted to state it. "At all events, it was settled."

"Yes," said the other quietly. "You whipped me."