. I
suppose I ought to have been--oh, I don't know, but our days together
didn't seem to make any difference. That Love was too big. It seemed
to me to be too big to be--well, jealous, I suppose."

She nodded. "That would be just it, Peter. That's how it would seem
to you. You see, I know. It's strange, my dear, but I don't feel
either--jealous."

He frowned. "What do you mean?" he said. "Don't you understand? It was
God's Love that I saw."

She hesitated a second, and then her face relaxed into a smile. "You're
as blind as a bat, my dear, but I suppose all men are, and so you can't
help it. Now go and ring for breakfast and smoke a cigarette in the
sitting-room while I dress." And Peter, because he hated to be called a
bat and did not feel in the least like one, went.

He rang the bell, and the maid answered it. She did not wait for him to
give his order, but advanced towards him, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, sir,"
she said, "is madame up? I don't know how to thank her, and you too. I've
wanted a frame for Jack's picture, but I couldn't get a real good one,
I couldn't. When I sees this parcel I couldn't think _what_ it was. I
forgot even as how I'd give the lady my name. Oh, she's the real good
one, she is. You'll forgive me, sir, but I know a real lady when I see
one. They haven't got no airs, and they know what a girl feels like,
right away. I put Jack in it, sir, on me table, and if there's anything
I can do for you or your lady, now or ever, I'll do it, sir."

Peter smiled at the little outburst, but his heart warmed within him. How
just like Julie it was! "Well," he said, "it's the lady you've really to
thank. Knock, if you like; I expect she'll let you in. And then order
breakfast, will you? Bacon and eggs and some fish. Thanks." And he turned
away.

She made for the door, but stopped, "I near forgot, sir," she said. "A
gentleman left this for you last night, and they give it to me at the
office--this morning. There was no answer, he said. He went by this
morning's train." She handed Peter an unstamped envelope bearing the
hotel's name, and left the room as he opened it. He did not recognise
the handwriting, but he tore it open and glanced at once at the
signature, and got a very considerable surprise, not to say a shock.
It was signed "Jack Donovan."

"MY DEAR GRAHAM, [the letter ran],

"Forgive me for writing, but I must tell you that I've seen you twice
with Julie (and each time neither of you saw anyone