tell you that her flitting
from each to each individual has been anything but a pleasure for
me--certainly not a wanton game of my instigation. To see the creature
who has hitherto been perfect, divine, lose under your very gaze the
divinity which has informed her, grow commonplace, turn from flame to
ashes, from a radiant vitality to a relic, is anything but a pleasure
for any man, and has been nothing less than a racking spectacle to my
sight. Each mournful emptied shape stands ever after like the nest of
some beautiful bird from which the inhabitant has departed and left it
to fill with snow. I have been absolutely miserable when I have looked
in a face for her I used to see there, and could see her there no more.'

'You ought not to marry,' repeated Somers.

'Perhaps I oughtn't to! Though poor Marcia will be compromised, I'm
afraid, if I don't.... Was I not right in saying I am accursed in this
thing? Fortunately nobody but myself has suffered on account of it
till now. Knowing what to expect, I have seldom ventured on a close
acquaintance with any woman, in fear of prematurely driving away the
dear one in her; who, however, has in time gone off just the same.'

Pierston soon after took his leave. A friend's advice on such a subject
weighs little. He quickly returned to Miss Bencomb.

She was different now. Anxiety had visibly brought her down a notch
or two, undone a few degrees of that haughty curl which her lip could
occasionally assume. 'How long you have been away!' she said with a show
of impatience.

'Never mind, darling. It is all arranged,' said he. 'We shall be able to
marry in a few days.'

'Not to-morrow?'

'We can't to-morrow. We have not been here quite long enough.'

'But how did the people at Doctors' Commons know that?'

'Well--I forgot that residence, real or assumed, was necessary, and
unfortunately admitted that we had only just arrived.'

'O how stupid! But it can't be helped now. I think, dear, I should have
known better, however!'

1. VIII. 'TOO LIKE THE LIGHTNING'

They lived on at the hotel some days longer, eyed curiously by the
chambermaids, and burst in upon every now and then by the waiters as if
accidentally. When they were walking together, mostly in back streets
for fear of being recognized, Marcia was often silent, and her imperious
face looked gloomy.

'Dummy!' he said playfully, on one of these occasions.

'I am vexed that by your admissions at Doctors' Commo