tly strong.

Often she thought of quitting Naples and returning to England. Yet,
after all, she found a strange comfort in being there. She was near
him. She heard his voice every day, and saw his face. That was
something. And it was better than absence.

Minnie used always to come to her and pour forth long accounts of Lord
Hawbury--how he looked, what he said, what he did, and what he
proposed to do. Certainly there was not the faintest approach to
love-making, or even sentiment, in Hawbury's attitude toward Minnie.
His words were of the world of small-talk--a world where sentiment and
love-making have but little place. Still there was the evident fact of
his attentions, which were too frequent to be overlooked.

Hawbury rapidly became the most prominent subject of Minnie's
conversation. She used to prattle away for hours about him. She
alluded admiringly to his long whiskers. She thought them "lovely."
She said that he was "awfully nice." She told Mrs. Willoughby that "he
was nicer than any of them; and then, Kitty darling," she added, "it's
so awfully good of him not to be coming and saving my life, and
carrying me on his back down a mountain, like an ogre, and then
pretending that he's my father, you know.

"For you know, Kitty pet, I've always longed so awfully to see some
really nice person, you know, who wouldn't go and save my life and
bother me. Now he doesn't seem a bit like proposing. I do _hope_ he
won't. Don't you, Kitty dearest? It's so _much_ nicer not to propose.
It's so horrid when they go and propose. And then, you know, I've had
so much of that sort of thing. So, Kitty, I think he's really the
nicest person that I ever saw, and I really think I'm beginning to
like him."

Far different from these were the conversations which Mrs. Willoughby
had with Ethel. She was perfectly familiar with Ethel's story. It had
been confided to her long ago. She alone knew why it was that Ethel
had walked untouched through crowds of admirers. The terrible story of
her rescue was memorable to her for other reasons; and the one who had
taken the prominent part in that rescue could not be without interest
for her.

"There is no use, Kitty--no use in talking about it any more," said
Ethel one day, after Mrs. Willoughby had been urging her to show
herself. "I can not. I will not. He has forgotten me utterly."

"Perhaps he has no idea that you are here. He has never seen you."

"Has he not been in Naples as long as