a very eloquent mouth. He wondered what she was
reading. Glancing at the title of the book, his heart sank within him.
She had a yellow-backed novel in her hand, of a profoundly light and
frivolous type. Maurice was fond of certain kinds of novels, but there
were others that he disliked and despised, and, as it happened, Lesley
had got hold of one of these.

"You are reading?" he said. "Am I interrupting you very much?"

"Oh, no," Lesley answered, smiling and shutting the book. "Tea is coming
up, you see. I am falling into English habits, and beginning to love the
hour of tea."

Sarah brought in the tea-tray as she spoke; and even Sarah's sour visage
relaxed a little at the sight of the young doctor. She went downstairs,
and presently returned with a plate of small, sweet cakes, which she
placed rather ostentatiously upon the table.

"Sarah must have brought those cakes especially for me," said Mr. Kenyon
lightly, when she had left the room. "She knows they are my especial
favorites. And your father's too. I don't know how many dozen your
father and I have not eaten, with our coffee sometimes in an evening! I
suppose you are learning to like them for his sake!"

He was talking against time for the sake of giving her back the
confidence that she seemed to have lost, for her face had flushed and
paled again more than once since his entry. But perhaps he was wrong,
for she answered him with a quietness of tone which showed no
perturbation.

"These little macaroon things, you mean? I like them very much already.
I did not know that my father cared about them. I have been away so
long"--smilingly--"that I know but little of his tastes."

"I could envy you the pleasure you will have, then?" said Maurice,
quickly.

Lesley opened her brown eyes. "The--the pleasure?" she faltered in an
inquiring tone.

"Yes, the pleasure of discovering what are the tastes and feelings of a
man like your father," said Maurice.

Then, as she looked disconcerted still, and as if she did not know quite
what he meant, he went on, ardently:

"You have the privilege, you know, of being the only daughter of a man
who is not only very widely known, but very much respected and admired.
That doesn't seem much to you perhaps?"--for he thought he saw Lesley's
lip curl, and his tone became a little sharp. "I assure you it means a
great deal in a world like ours--in the world of London. It means that
your father is a man of great ability and of