im.'

'Do you know him well?'

'No man knows him better.'

'Can't you get him to stand out, and, Alured, can't you--fetch along that
old tall talk mummy? He would hit our people, being American himself.'

'It is impossible. Jones Harvey will never stand out,' and Bude smiled.

By the telepathy of the affections Miss McCabe was slowly informed,
especially as Bude's smile widened almost unbecomingly, while he gazed
into the deeps of her golden eyes.

'Alured,' she exclaimed, '_that's_ why you went to the States.
_You_--are--Jones Harvey!'

'Secret for secret,' whispered the earl. 'We have both given ourselves
away. Unknown to the world I _am_ Jones Harvey; to live for you: to love
you: to dare; if need be, to die for you.'

'Well, you surprise me!' said Miss McCabe.

* * * * *

The narrator is unwilling to dilate on the delights of a privileged
affection. In this love affair neither of the lovers could feel
absolutely certain that their affection _was_ privileged. The fair
American had her own secret scheme if her hopes were blighted. She
_could_ not then obey the paternal will: she would retire into the life
religious, and, as Sister Anna, would strive to forget the sorrows of
Melissa McCabe. Bude had his own hours of gloom.

'It is a six-to-one chance,' he said to Merton when they met.

'Better than that, I think,' said Merton. 'First, you know exactly what
you are entered for. Do the others? When you saw the trustees in the
States, did they tell you about the prize?'

'Not they. They spoke of a pecuniary reward which would be eminently
satisfactory, and of the opportunity for research and distinction, and
all expenses found. I said that I preferred to pay my own way, which
surprised and pleased them a good deal.'

'Well, then, knowing the facts, and the lady, you have a far stronger
motive than the other six.'

'That's true,' said Bude.

'Again, though the others are good men (not that I like Jenkins of All
Souls), none of them has your experience and knowledge. Jones Harvey's
testimonials would carry it if it were a question of election to a
professorship.'

'You flatter me,' answered Bude.

'_Lastly, did the trustees ask you if you were a married man_?'

'No, by Jove, they didn't.'

'Well, nothing about the competitors being unmarried men occurs in the
clause of McCabe's last will and testament. He took it for granted, the
prize being what it is, that only bachelors were eligi