anxious. There could be no peace till he had interpreted them to his
full satisfaction; and the power of interpreting a woman's words could
not be reckoned among his attributes.

Suddenly it occurred to him that he had pocketed two unopened envelopes
before starting for church. He drew them out; rather because he needed
some definite occupation, than because he felt curious as to their
contents. Men of his type are rarely overburdened with correspondents.

The first was a business letter. He read it with scant attention, and
returned it to his breast-pocket. The second envelope bore the
handwriting of his senior subaltern, now in England on short leave.
The two men were close friends; but Eldred's last letter had been
written four months ago; and the envelope in his hand contained
Richardson's tardy response. He broke the seal with a smile at thought
of his subaltern's astonishment when he should learn the truth. The
letter was longer than usual; and in glancing through it hurriedly, the
name Miss Maurice caught his eye. "Great Scott!" he muttered aloud;
then, with quickened interest, began upon the second page, ignoring the
opening.

"Wonder if you have run across the Maurices in Zermatt," wrote Max
Richardson, with no faintest prevision of the circumstances in which
the thoughtless lines would be read by his friend. "Artists both of
them, brother and sister; and a rather remarkable couple, I'm told.
She seems to have made a hit at the Academy; and the cousins I'm
staying with are very keen about her. I happened to mention that I was
writing to a chap in Zermatt, and they begged me to ask if you had
heard or seen anything of this Miss Maurice. There's a bit of a
romance about her; that's what has pricked their interest. Seems she
was engaged to Sir Roger Bennet this season. A swell in the Art patron
line. Lost his heart at first sight. But evidently on closer
acquaintance found her rather a handful, and too much of a Bohemian to
suit his British taste! At all events there was a flare-up over
something about three months ago, and Sir Roger backed out, politely
but definitely. It seems that Miss Maurice was a good deal cut up.
Went off to Zermatt with her brother. And now rumour has it that she
is engaged, if not married, to some other chap out there, I suppose by
way of a gentle intimation to Sir Roger that he hasn't broken her
heart. My cousins are eaten up with curiosity to know if it's true.
Wom