nd
remembered the story, and perhaps was a trifle surprised that she should
wear so conspicuously the gift of a stranger.

She was very friendly, and very cheerful. She did not seem at all
fatigued with her travelling; on the contrary, it was probably the
sea-air and the sunlight that had lent to her cheek a faint flush of
color. But at the end of dinner her father said.

"Natalushka, if we go into the drawing-room, and listen to music, after
so long a day, we shall all go to sleep. You must come into the
smoking-room with us."

"Very well, papa."

"But, Miss Lind," the other gentleman remonstrated, "a velvet
dress--tobacco-smoke--"

"My dresses must take their chance," said Miss Lind. "I wear them to
please my friends, not to please chance acquaintances who may call
during the day."

And so they retired to the little den at the end of the passage; and
Natalie handed Mr. Brand a box of cigars to choose from, and got down
from the rack her father's long-stemmed, red-bowled pipe. Then she took
a seat in the corner by the fire, and listened.

The talk was all about that anarchical literature that Brand had been
devouring down at Dover; and he was surprised to find how little
sympathy Lind had with writing of that kind, though he had to confess
that certain of the writers were personal friends of his own. Natalie
sat silent, listening intently, and staring into the fire.

At last Brand said,

"Of course, I had other books. For example, one I see on your shelves
there." He rose, and took down the "Songs before Sunrise." "Miss Lind,"
he said, "I am afraid you will laugh at me; but I have been haunted with
the notion that you have been teaching Lord Evelyn how to read poetry,
or that he has been unconsciously imitating you. I heard him repeat some
passages from 'The Pilgrims,' and I was convinced he was reproducing
something he had heard from you. Well--I am almost ashamed to ask you--"

A touch of embarrassment appeared on the girl's face, and she glanced at
her father.

"Yes, certainly, Natalie; why not?"

"Well," she said, lightly, "I cannot read if I am stared at. You must
remain as you are."

She took the book from him, and passed to the other side of the room, so
that she was behind them both. There was silence for an instant or two
as she turned over the leaves.

Then the silence was broken; and if Brand was instantly assured that his
surmise was correct, he also knew that here was a more pathetic
ca