CHAPTER X.

FORCE--A REMEDY. "Get me out of this, I am stifled--ill," Miss Metford said, in a low voice to me. As we were hurrying from the room, Brande and his sister, who had joined him, met us. The fire had died out of his eyes. His voice had returned to its ordinary key. His demeanour was imperturbable, sphinx-like. I murmured some words about the eloquence of the lecture, but interrupted myself when I observed his complete indifference to my remarks, and said, "Neither praise nor blame seems to affect you, Brande." "Certa…