and the rattle of traffic reached
them from the High Street; but inside there was a silence of a
Norwegian fjord, and the memory of one hour that never could be effaced
from their recollections as long as they both should live. Under the
influence of the tea, and with the assistance of the cigarette, which
she insisted he should smoke, Browne gradually recovered his presence
of mind. One thing, however, puzzled him. He remembered what the
shopman had told him, and for this reason he could not understand how
she came to be the possessor of so comfortable a studio. This,
however, was soon explained. The girl informed him that after his
departure from Merok (though I feel sure she was not aware that he was
the owner of the magnificent vessel she had seen in the harbour) she
had been unable to move for upwards of a week. After that she and her
companion, Madame Bernstein, had left for Christiania, travelling
thence to Copenhagen, and afterwards to Berlin. In the latter city she
had met an English woman, also an artist. They had struck up a
friendship, with the result that the lady in question, having made up
her mind to winter in Venice, had offered her the free use of her
London studio for that time, if she cared to cross the Channel and take
possession of it.

"Accordingly, in the daytime, I paint here," said the girl; "but Madame
Bernstein and I have our lodgings in the Warwick Road. I hope you did
not think this was my studio; I should not like to sail under false
colours."

Browne felt that he would have liked to give her the finest studio that
ever artist had used a brush and pencil in. He was wise enough,
however, not to say so. He changed the conversation, therefore, by
informing her that he had wintered in Petersburg, remarking at the same
time that he had hoped to have had the pleasure of meeting her there.

"You will never meet me in Petersburg," she answered, her face changing
colour as she spoke. "You do not know, perhaps, why I say this. But I
assure you, you will never meet me or mine within the Czar's dominions."

Browne would have given all he possessed in the world not to have given
utterance to that foolish speech. He apologised immediately, and with
a sincerity that made her at once take pity on him.

"Please do not feel so sorry for what you said," she replied. "It was
impossible for you to know that you had transgressed. The truth is, my
family are supposed to be very dangerous pe