Scott spoke in serio-comic tones, and Miss Carleton looked keenly in his face to see if he were jesting.

“No; you are mistaken, Mr. Scott,” she said, slowly, after a pause.  “My confidence in you would have been just as strong if I had known nothing of the facts.”

“Thank you; I am very glad to hear that,” he answered.  Then added, gently, “Would, it be strong enough to stand a far heavier strain than that, if it were necessary?”

His tones were serious now, and she regarded him inquiringly for a moment before speaking; then seeing young Mainwaring approaching with his sister and Miss Thornton, she replied, in low tones,-

“I have no idea to what you refer, Mr. Scott, and I begin to think you are indeed a ‘mystery;’ but you can be assured of this much:  I would never, under any circumstances, believe you capable of anything false or dishonorable.”

Scott’s eyes expressed his gratification at these words, and he would then have withdrawn, but neither Miss Carleton nor young Mainwaring gave him an opportunity to do so without seeming discourteous.  Both drew him into conversation and found him exceedingly entertaining, though reserved concerning himself.  Isabel Mainwaring still held herself aloof and took little part in the conversation, but to make amends for this Miss Thornton bestowed some of her most winning smiles upon the handsome young secretary, her large, infantile blue eyes regarding him with wondering curiosity.

After a pleasant evening, Scott excused himself and retired to his room; but an hour or two later there was a knock at his door, and on opening it he saw young Mainwaring in smoking-cap and jacket.

“I say, Scott, won’t you come out and have a smoke?  I’ve got some fine cigars, and it’s too pretty a night to stay in one’s room; come out on my balcony and we’ll have a bit of a talk and smoke.”

Scott readily consented, and the two young men proceeded to the balcony upon which Mainwaring’s room opened, where the latter had already placed two reclining chairs and a small table containing a box of his favorite Havanas.

For a few moments they puffed in silence, looking out into the starlit night with its beauty of dim outline and mysterious shadow.  Mainwaring was the first to speak.

“I say, Scott, I’m awfully ashamed of the way that some of us, my family in particular, have treated you within the last day or two.  It was confoundedly shabby, and I beg your pardon for my share in it, anyhow.”

“Don’t waste any regrets over that matter,” Scott answered, indifferently; “I never gave it any thought, and it is not worth mentioning.”

“I do regret it, though, more than I can tell, and I haven’t any excuse for myself; only things did look so deucedly queer there for a while, don’t you know?”

“Well,” said Scott, pleasantly, “we are not out of the woods yet, and there is no telling what developments may arise.  Things might ‘look queer’ again, you know.”