ne of those fine
reckless outlines which the action of driving, and the pace, admirably
set off. She took his fancy. He liked the air of petulant gallantry about
her, and mused upon the picture, rare to him, of a glorious dashing
woman. He thought, too, she looked at him. He was not at the time
inclined to be vain, or he might have been sure she did. Once it struck
him she nodded slightly.

He asked Adrian one day in the park--who she was.

"I don't know her," said Adrian. "Probably a superior priestess of
Paphos."

"Now that's my idea of Bellona," Richard exclaimed. "Not the fury they
paint, but a spirited, dauntless, eager-looking creature like that."

"Bellona?" returned the wise youth. "I don't think her hair was black.
Red, wasn't it? I shouldn't compare her to Bellona; though, no doubt,
she's as ready to spill blood. Look at her! She does seem to scent
carnage. I see your idea. No; I should liken her to Diana emerged from
the tutorship of Master Endymion, and at nice play among the gods. Depend
upon it--they tell us nothing of the matter--Olympus shrouds the
story--but you may be certain that when she left the pretty shepherd she
had greater vogue than Venus up aloft."

Brayder joined them.

"See Mrs. Mount go by?" he said.

"Oh, that's Mrs. Mount!" cried Adrian.

"Who's Mrs. Mount?" Richard inquired.

"A sister to Miss Random, my dear boy."

"Like to know her?" drawled the Hon. Peter.

Richard replied indifferently, "No," and Mrs. Mount passed out of sight
and out of the conversation.

The young man wrote submissive letters to his father. "I have remained
here waiting to see you now five weeks," he wrote. "I have written to you
three letters, and you do not reply to them. Let me tell you again how
sincerely I desire and pray that you will come, or permit me to come to
you and throw myself at your feet, and beg my forgiveness, and hers. She
as earnestly implores it. Indeed, I am very wretched, sir. Believe me,
there is nothing I would not do to regain your esteem and the love I fear
I have unhappily forfeited. I will remain another week in the hope of
hearing from you, or seeing you. I beg of you, sir, not to drive me mad.
Whatever you ask of me I will consent to."

"Nothing he would not do!" the baronet commented as he read. "There is
nothing he would not do! He will remain another week and give me that
final chance! And it is I who drive him mad! Already he is beginning to
cast his retribution o