the　Darrows。
  You　will　understand；　of　course；　that　I　did　not　learn　all　this　at　our
  first　interview。　　Maitland　did　not　take　me　into　his　confidence　until
  we　had　had　a　conference　at　his　laboratory　devoted　entirely　to
  scientific　speculations。　　On　this　occasion　he　surprised　me　not　a
  little　by　turning　to　me　suddenly　and　saying：　〃Some　of　the　grandest
  sacrifices　the　world　has　ever　known；　if　one　may　judge　by　the
  fortitude　they　require；=20and　the　pain　they　cause；　have　occurred　in
  the　laboratory。〃　　I　looked　at　him　inquiringly；　and　he　continued：
  〃When　a　man；　simply　for　the　great　love　of　truth　that　is　in　him；　has
  given　his　life　to　the　solution　of　some　problem；　and　has　at　last
  arrived；　after　years　of　closest　application；　at　some　magnificent
  generalisation　…　when　he　has；　perhaps；　published　his　conclusions；
  and　received　the　grateful　homage　of　all　lovers　of　truth；　his　life
  has；　indeed；　borne　fruit。　　Of　him　may　it　then　be　justly　said　that
  his
  〃'。　。　。　life　hath　blossomed　downward　like
  The　purple　bell…flower。'
  But　suddenly；　in　the　privacy　of　his　laboratory；　a　single　fact　arises
  from　the　test…tube　in　his　trembling　hand　and　confronts　him！　　His
  brain　reels；　the　glass　torment　falls　upon　the　floor；　and　shatters
  into　countless　pieces；　but　he　is　not　conscious　of　it；　for　he　feels
  it　thrust　through　his　heart。　　When　he　recovers　from　the　first　shock；
  he　can　only　ejaculate：　'Is　it　possible？'　　After　a　little　he　is　able
  to　reason。　　'I　was　fatigued；'　he　says；　'perhaps　my　senses　erred。　　I
  can　repeat　the　experiment　again；　and　be　sure。　　But　if　it　overthrow
  those　conclusions　for　which　I　have　given　my　life？'　he　gasps。　　'My
  generalisation　is　firmly　established　in　the　minds　of　all　…　all　but
  myself　…　no　one　will　ever　chance　upon　this　particular　experiment；
  and　it　may　not　disprove　my　theory　after　all；　better；　much　better；
  that　the　floor　there　keep　the　secret　of　it　all　both　from　me　and　from
  others！'　　But　even　as　he　says　this　to　himself　he　has　taken　a　new
  tube　from　the　rack　and　crawled　…　ten　years　older　for　that　last　ten
  minutes　…　to　his　chemical　case。　　The　life…long　habit　of　truth　is　so
  strong　in　him　that　self…interest　cannot　submerge　it。　　He　repeats　the
  experiment；　and　confirms　his　fears。　　The　battle　between　his　life　and
  a　few　drops　of　liquid　in　a　test…tube　has　been　mercilessly　fought；
  and　he　has　lost！　　The　elasticity　of　the　man　is　gone　forever；　and　the
  only　indication　the　world　ever　receives　of　this　terrible　conflict
  between　a　human　soul　and　its　destiny　is　some　half　a　dozen　lines　in
  Nature；　giving　the　experiment　and　stating　that　it　utterly　refutes
  its　author's　previous　conclusions。　　Half　a　dozen　lines　…　the　epitaph
  of　a　dead；　though　unburied；　life！〃
  My　companion　paused　there；　but　I　found　myself　unable　to　reply。　　He
  had　spoken　with　such　intensity；　such　dramatic　fervour；　that　I　was
  completely　swept　away　by　his　eloquence；　so　much　so；　indeed；　that　it
  did　not　even　occur　to　me　to　ask　myself　why　he　should　have　burst　out
  in　this　peculiar　strain。　　I　have　given　you　the　incident　in　order
  that　you　may　see　the　strange　moods　into　which　Maitland　occasionally
  relapsed　…　at　least；　at　that　time。　　After　a　quick　glance　at　me　he
  continued；　in　a　quieter　vein：　〃All　of　us　men　of　science　have　felt
  something；　however　little；　of　this；　and　I　believe；　as　a　class；
  scientists　transcend　all　other　men　in　their　respect　for　absolute
  truth。〃　　He　cast　another　one　of　his　searching　glances　at　me；　and
  said　quickly：　〃This　is　precisely　why　I　am　going　to　confide　in　you
  and　rely　upon　your　assistance　in　a　matter；　the　successful　termination
  of　which　would　please　me　as　much　as　the　discovery　of　an　absolute
  standard　of　measurement。〃
  He　then　made　the　confession　which　I　have　already　given　you；　and
  ended　by　asking　me　to　secure　him　an　introduction　to　Miss　Darrow。
  I　cheerfully　promised　to　bring　this　about　at　the　first　opportunity。
  He　asked　me　if　I　thought；　on　account　of　his　having　met　her　so
  frequently；　she　would　be　likely　to　think　it　was　all　a　〃put　up　job。〃
  〃I　do　not　know；〃　I　replied。　　〃Miss　Darrow　is　a　singularly　close
  observer。　　On　the　whole　I　think　you　had　better　reach　her　through
  her　father。　　Do　you　play　croquet？〃　　He　replied　that　he　was　considered
  something　of　an　expert　in　that　line。　　That；　then；　was　surely　the　best
  way。　　John　Darrow　was　known　in　the　neighbourhood　as　a　〃crank〃　on　the
  subject　of　croquet。　　He　had　spent　many　hundreds　of　dollars　on　his
  grounds。　　His　wickets　were　fastened　to　hard　pine　planks；　and　these
  were　then　carefully　buried　two　feet　deep。　　The　surface　of　the　ground；
  he　was　wont　to　descant；　must　be　of　a　particular　sort　of　gravel；
  sifted　just　so；　and　rolled　to　a　nicety。　　The　balls　must　be　of　hard
  rubber；　and　have　just　one…eighth　inch　clearance　in　passing　through
  the　wickets；　with　the　exception　of　the　two　wires　forming　the　〃cage；〃
  where　it　was　imperative　that　this　clearance　should　be　reduced　to
  one…sixteenth　of　an　inch　…　but　I　need　not　state　more　to　show　how　he
  came　to　be　considered　a　〃crank〃　upon　the　subject。
  It　was　easy　enough　to　bring　Maitland　and　Darrow　together。　　〃My
  friend　is　himself　much　interested　in　the　game；　he　heard　of　your
  superb　ground；　may　he　be　permitted　to　examine　it　closely？〃　　Darrow
  was　all　attention。　　He　would　be　delighted　to　show　it。　　Suppose　they
  make　a　practical　test　of　it　by　playing　a　game。　　This　they　did　and
  Maitland　played　superbly；　but　he　was　hardly　a　match　for　the　old
  gentleman；　who　sought　to　palliate　his　defeat　by　saying：　〃You　play
  an　excellent　game；　sir；　but　I　am　a　trifle　too　much　for　you　on　my　own
  ground。　　Now；　if　you　can　spare　the　time；　I　should　like　to　witness　a
  game　between　you　and　my　daughter；　I　think　you　will　be　pretty　evenly
  matched。〃
  If　he　could　spare　the　time！　　I　laughed　outright　at　the　idea。　　Why；
  with　the　prospect　of　meeting　Gwen　Darrow　before　him；　an　absolute
  unit　of　measure；　with　a　snail's　pace；　would　have　made　good　its
  escape　from　him。　　As　it　is　a　trick　of　poor　humanity　to　refuse　when
  offered　the　very　thing　one　has　been　madly　scheming　to　obtain；　I
  hastened　to　accept　Darrow's　invitation　for　my　friend；　and　to　assure
  him　on　my　own　responsibility；　that　time　was　just　then　hanging　heavily
  on　Maitland's　hands。　　Well；　the　game　was　played；　but　Maitland　was　so
  unnerved　by　the　girl's　presence　that　he　played　execrably；　so　poorly；
  indeed；　that　the　always　polite　Darrow　remarked：　〃You　must　charge
  your　easy　victory；　Gwen；　to　your　opponent's　gallantry；　not　to　his
  lack　of　skill；　for　I　assure　you　he　gave　me　a　much　harder　rub。〃　　The
  young　lady　cast　a　quick　glance　at　Maitland；　which　said　so　plainly
  that　she　preferred　a　fair　field　and　no　favour　that　he　hastened　to
  say：　〃Your　father　puts　too　high　an　estimate　upon　my　play。　　I　did　my
  best　to　win；　but　…　but　I　was　a　little　nervous；　I　see；　however；　that
  you　would　have　defeated　me　though　I　had　been　in　my　best　form。〃　　Gwen
  gave　him　one　of　those　short；　searching　looks；　so　peculiarly　her　own；
  which　seem　to　read；　with　mathematical　certainty；　one's　innermost
  thoughts；　…　and　the　poor　fellow　blushed　to　the　tips　of　his　ears。
  …　But　he　was　no　boy；　this　Maitland；　and　betrayed　no　other　sign　of
  the　tempest　that　was　raging　within　him。　　His　utterance　remained　as
  usual；　deliberate　and　incisive；　and　I　thought　this　perplexed　the
  young　lady。　　Before　leaving；　both　Maitland　and　I　were　invited　to
  become　parties　to　a　six…handed　game　to　be　played　the　following　week；
  after　the　grounds　had　been　redressed　with　gravel。
  Maitland　looked　forward　to　this　second　meeting　with　Miss　Darrow
  with　an　eagerness　which　made　every　hour　seem　interminably　long；　and
  he　was　in　such　a　flutter　of　expectancy　that　I　was　sure　if
  〃We　live　。　。　。　in　thoughts；　not　breaths；
  In　feelings；　not　in　figures　on　a　dial
  We　should　count　time　by　heart…throbs；〃
  he　must　have　passed　through　a　period　as　long　as　that　separating　the
  Siege　of　Troy　from　the　〃late　unpleasantness。〃　　The　afternoon　came　at
  last；　however。　　The　party　consisted；　besides　Darrow　and　his　daughter；
  Maitland　and　myself；　of　two　young　gentlemen　with　whom　personally　I
  had　but　a　slight　acquaintance；　although　I　knew　them　somewhat　by
  reputation。　　The　younger　one；　Clinton　Browne；　is　a　young　artist　whose
  landscapes　were　beginning　to　attract　wide　attention　in　Boston；　and
  the　elder；　Charles　Herne；　a　Western　gentleman　of　some　literary
  attainments；　but　comparatively　unknown　here　in　the　East。　　There　is
  nothing　about　Mr。　Herne　that　would　challenge　more　than　passing
  attention。　　If　you　had　said　of　him；　〃He　is　well…fleshed；　well…groomed；
  and　intellectually　well…thatched；〃　you　would　have　voiced　the　opinion
  of　most　of　his　acquaintances。
  This　somewhat　elaborately　upholstered　old　world　has　a　deal　of　mere
  filling　of　one　kind　and　another；　and　Mr。　Herne　is　a　part　of　it。　　To
  be　sure；　he　leaves　the　category　of　excelsior　very　far　behind　and
  approaches　very　nearly　to　the　best　grade　of　curled　hair；　but；　in
  spite　of　all　this；　he　is　simply　a　sort　of　social　filling。
  Mr。　Browne；　on　the　other　hand；　is　a　very　different　personage。　　Of
  medium　height；　closely　knit；　with　the　latent　activity　and　grace　of
  the　cat　flowing　through　every　movement　and　even　stagnating　in　his
  pose；　he　is　a　man　that　the　first　casual　gaze　instantly　returns　to
  with　sharpened　focus。　　You　have　seen