a rain-storm on the mountain and got very wet. Mrs. Denham is of course
worried about her, and Mr. Lynde has been kind enough to come all the
way to Paris for us."

"That WAS very kind in him."

Dr. Pendegrast drew a chair up to the table and began questioning Lynde.
Beyond satisfying such of the doctor's inquiries as he could, Lynde did
not speak during the meal. He managed to swallow a cup of black coffee,
which revived him; but he was unable to eat a mouthful. The intelligence
he had brought so occupied his companions that the young man's very
noticeable agitation and constraint escaped them. In a few minutes Mr.
Denham rose from his seat and begged the two gentlemen to finish their
breakfast at leisure, while he went to consult the time-table at the
bureau of the hotel.

"The doctor can give you a genuine Havana," he remarked to Lynde. "I
will join you shortly in the smoking-room."

While Dr. Pendegrast silently drank his coffee, Lynde pieced his
scattered thoughts together. What course should he pursue? Should he
take the doctor into his confidence, or should he let himself drift? How
could the doctor help him in the circumstances? Ruth had been insane.
What could do away with that dreadful fact, the revelation of which now
appalled him as if he had never suspected it. Ruth, Ruth--the very name
was significant of calamity! Flemming's words rang in his ears: "You
would not marry her!" He had not replied to Flemming that night when the
case was merely supposititious. But now--it seemed to Lynde that he had
never loved Ruth until this moment. The knowledge of her misfortune had
added to his love that great pity of which he had spoken to his friend.