looks, to give any peculiar significance to what he uttered. Still,
the moment his back was turned, I found myself speculating whether his
words contained any hidden meaning; trying to recall something in his
voice or manner which might guide me in discovering the real sense he
attached to what he said. It seemed as if the most powerful whet to my
curiosity, were supplied by my own experience of the impossibility of
penetrating beneath the unassailable surface which this man presented
to me.

I questioned Margaret about him. She could not tell me more than I
knew already. He had always been very kind and useful; he was a clever
man, and could talk a great deal sometimes, when he chose; and he had
taught her more of foreign languages and foreign literature in a
month, than she had learned at school in a year. While she was telling
me this, I hardly noticed that she spoke in a very hurried manner, and
busied herself in arranging the books and work that lay on the table.
My attention was more closely directed to Mrs. Sherwin. To my
surprise, I saw her eagerly lean forward while Margaret was speaking,
and fix her eyes on her daughter with a look of penetrating scrutiny,
of which I could never have supposed a person usually so feeble and
unenergetic to be capable. I thought of transferring to her my
questionings on the subject of Mr. Mannion; but at that moment her
husband entered the room, and I addressed myself for further
enlightenment to him.

"Aha!"--cried Mr. Sherwin, rubbing his hands triumphantly--"I knew
Mannion would please you. I told you so, my dear Sir, if you remember,
before he came. Curious looking person--isn't he?"

"So curious, that I may safely say I never saw a face in the slightest