le her pledge of secrecy
disposed of the difficulty in the way of a too rapid transfer of his
attentions. If Claudia did not complain, nay, counseled such action, who
had a right to object? It was true she had eagerly disclaimed any
intention of inciting him to try to break the ties that now bound Miss
Bernard. But, he reflected, the important point was not the view she
took of the morality of such an attempt, on which her authority was
nought, but her opinion of its chances of success, which was obviously
not wholly unfavorable. He did not trouble himself to inquire closely
into any personal motive she may have had. It was enough for him that
she, a person likely to be well informed, had allowed him to see that,
to her thinking, the relations between the engaged pair were of a
character to inspire in the mind of another aspirant hope rather than
despair.

Having reached this conclusion, Haddington recognized that his first
step must be to put Miss Bernard in touch with the position of affairs.
It may seem a delicate matter to hint to your host's _fiancee_ that if
she, on mature reflection, likes you better than him, there is still
time; but Haddington was not afflicted with delicacy. After all, in such
a case a great deal depends upon the lady, and Haddington, though
doubtful how Kate would regard a direct proposal to break off her
engagement, was yet tolerably confident that she would not betray him
to Eugene.

He found her seated on the terrace that was the usual haunt of the
ladies in the forenoon and the scene of Eugene's dutiful labors as
reader-aloud. Kate was not looking amiable; and scarce six feet from her
there lay open on the ground a copy of the Laureate's works.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, Miss Bernard?"

"Oh, no. You see, I am alone. Mr. Lane was here just now, but he's
gone."

"How's that?" asked Haddington, seating himself.

"He got a telegram, read it, flung his book away, and rushed off."

"Did he say what it was about?"

"No; I didn't ask him."

A pause ensued. It was a little difficult to make a start.

"And so you are alone?"

"Yes, as you see."

"I am alone too. Shall we console one another?"

"I don't want consolation, thanks," said Kate, a little ungraciously.
"But," she added more kindly, "you know I'm always glad of your
company."

"I wish I could think so."

"Why don't you think so?"

"Well, Miss Bernard, engaged people are generally rather indifferent to
the rest