"Under what circumstances?"

The secretary dropped his head, a certain drawn look making itself
suddenly visible on his countenance.

"Will you not excuse me, gentlemen?" he asked, after a moment's
hesitation.

"It is impossible," returned the coroner.

His face grew even more pallid and deprecatory. "I am obliged to
introduce the name of a lady," he hesitatingly declared.

"We are very sorry," remarked the coroner.

The young man turned fiercely upon him, and I could not help
wondering that I had ever thought him commonplace. "Of Miss Eleanore
Leavenworth!" he cried.

At that name, so uttered, every one started but Mr. Gryce; he was
engaged in holding a close and confidential confab with his
finger-tips, and did not appear to notice.

"Surely it is contrary to the rules of decorum and the respect we
all feel for the lady herself to introduce her name into this
discussion," continued Mr. Harwell. But the coroner still insisting
upon an answer, he refolded his arms (a movement indicative of
resolution with him), and began in a low, forced tone to say:

"It is only this, gentlemen. One afternoon, about three weeks since,