hand.

The tea-room door opens into a large inner hall, out of which leads the
principal staircase; the outer or entrance-hall is beyond; and presently
the stopping of the carriage, the opening and shutting of doors from the
servants' departments, and all the usual bustle of an arrival are heard.

The two girls stand close together listening, Beatrice hidden in the
shadow of the room.

"There are _two_ voices!" cries Helen, in a disappointed tone; "he is not
alone!"

"I suppose it is Mr. Pryme--mamma said he might come by this train,"
answers Beatrice, so quietly that no one could ever have guessed how her
heart was beating.

"Helen, _do_ let us run upstairs; I really cannot stay. Let _me_ go, at
all events!" she adds, with a sudden agony of entreaty as the guests were
heard advancing towards the door of the inner hall. And as Helen made not
the slightest sign of moving, Beatrice slipped past her and ran lightly
and swiftly across the hall upstairs, and disappeared along the landing
above just as Captain Kynaston and Mr. Herbert Pryme appeared upon the
scene below.

No such scruples of modesty troubled Mrs. Romer. As the young men entered
the inner hall preceded by the butler, who was taking them up to their
rooms, and followed by two footmen who were bearing their portmanteaus,
Helen stepped boldly forward out of the shelter of the tea-room, and held
out her hand to Captain Kynaston.

"How do you do? How late your train is."

Maurice looked distinctly annoyed, but of course he shook hands with her.

"How are you, Mrs. Romer? I did not expect you to be here till to-morrow.
Yes, we are late," consulting his watch; "only twenty minutes to dress
in--I must look sharp."

Meanwhile the stranger, Mr. Pryme, was following the butler upstairs.

Helen lowered her voice.

"I _must_ speak to you a minute, Maurice; it is six weeks since we have
met, and to meet in public would be too trying. Please dress as quickly
as ever you can; I know you can dress quickly if you choose; and wait for
me here at the bottom of the stairs--we might get just three minutes
together before dinner."

There were the footmen and the portmanteaus within six yards of them, and
Mr. Pryme and the butler still within earshot. What was Maurice to do? He
could not really listen to a whole succession of prayers, and entreaties,
and piteous appeals. There was neither the time, nor was it the place,
for either discussion or remonstrance. All he co