se.

'Yes, miss. I didn't know you was here, miss. They asked me to write it
down, and let you have it as soon as possible.'

'I knew how it would be if I gave in about that telephone!' Lord John
arraigned his wife. Even Mr. Stonor had to sympathize. 'They won't leave
people in peace even one day in the week.'

'I've got your book,' Jean said, looking at Miss Levering over the top
of the telegraph form, and then glancing at the title as she restored
the volume to its owner. 'Dante! Whereabouts are you?' She opened it
without waiting to hear. 'Oh, the Inferno.'

'No, I'm in a worse place,' said the other, smiling vaguely as she drew
on her gloves.

'I didn't know there was a worse.'

'Yes, it's worse with the Vigliacchi.'

'I forget, were they Guelf or Ghibelline?'

'They weren't either, and that was why Dante couldn't stand them. He
said there was no place in Heaven nor in Purgatory--not even a corner in
Hell, for the souls who had stood aloof from strife.' The smile faded as
she stood there looking steadily into the girl's eyes. 'He called them
"wretches who never lived," Dante did, because they'd never felt the
pangs of partisanship. And so they wander homeless on the skirts of
limbo, among the abortions and off-scourings of Creation.'

The girl drew a fluttering breath. Miss Levering glanced at the clock,
and turned away to make her leisurely adieux among the group at the
window.

Mrs. Heriot left it at once. 'What was that about a telephone message,
Jean darling?'

The girl glanced at the paper, and then quite suddenly said to Lady
John--

'Aunt Ellen, I've got to go to London!'

'Not to-day!'

'My dear child!'

'Nonsense!'

'Is your grandfather worse?'

'N--no. I don't think my grandfather is any worse. But I must go, all
the same.'

'You _can't_ go away,' whispered Mrs. Heriot, 'when Mr. Stonor----'

'Back me up!' Jean whispered to Lady John. 'He said he'd have to leave
directly after luncheon. And anyhow--all these people--please have us
another time.'

'I'll just see Miss Levering off,' said Lady John, 'and then I'll come
back and talk about it.'

In the midst of the good-byeing that was going on over by the window,
Jean suddenly exclaimed--

'There mayn't be another train! Miss Levering!'

But Stonor was standing in front of the girl barring the way. 'What if
there isn't? I'll take you back in my motor,' he said aside.

'_Will_ you?' In her rapture at the thought Jean clasped h