her slender old hands, for on Sunday afternoon Miss Ames dressed
the part.

"How are you, Mason," she said, but with a preoccupied air.
"What time is Mr. Hanlon coming, Eunice?"

"Soon now, I think," and Eunice spoke with entire composure, her
angry excitement all subdued. It was characteristic of her that
after a fit of temper, she was more than usually soft and gentle.
More considerate of others and even, more roguishly merry.

"You know, Mason, that what we are to be told to-day is a most
inviolable secret--that is, it is a secret until tomorrow."

"Never put off till to-morrow what you can tell to-night,"
returned Elliott, but he listened attentively while Eunice and
Aunt Abby described the performance of the young man Hanlon.

"Of course," Elliott observed, a little disappointedly, "if he
says he hoaxed the crowd, of course he did; but in that case I've
no interest in the thing. I'd like it better if he were honest."

"Oh, he's honest enough," corrected Embury; "he owns right up
that it was a trick. Why, good heavens, man! if it hadn't been,
he couldn't have done it at all. I'm rather keen to know just
how he managed, though, for the yarn of Eunice and Aunt Abby is a
bit mystifying."

"Don't depend too much on the tale of interested spectators.
They're the worst possible witnesses! They see only what they