uptly
departed.

The women stood for a moments at a distance from each other. Then Miss
Barfoot glanced at her friend and laughed.

'Really my poor cousin is not very discreet.'

'Anything but,' Rhoda answered, resting on the back of a chair, her
eyes cast down. 'Do you think he will really cane his sister-in-law?'

'How can you ask such a question?'

'It would be amusing. I should think better of him for it.'

'Well, make it a condition. We know the story of the lady and her
glove. I can see you sympathize with her.'

Rhoda laughed and went away, leaving Miss Barfoot with the impression
that she had revealed a genuine impulse. It seemed not impossible that
Rhoda might wish to say to her lover: 'Face this monstrous scandal and
I am yours.

A week passed and there arrived a letter, with a foreign stamp,
addressed to Miss Nunn. Happening to receive it before Miss Barfoot had
come down to breakfast, she put in away in a drawer till evening
leisure, and made no mention of its arrival. Exhilaration appeared in
her behaviour through the day. After dinner she disappeared, shutting
herself up to read the letter.

'DEAR MISS NUNN,--I am sitting at a little marble table outside a cafe
on the Cannibiere. Does that name convey anything to you? The
Cannibiere is the principal street of Marseilles, street of gorgeous
cafe's and restaurants, just now blazing with electric light. You, no
doubt, are shivering by the fireside; here it is like an evening of
summer. I have dined luxuriously, and I am taking my coffee whilst I
write. At a table near to me sit two girls, engaged in the liveliest
possible conversation, of which I catch a few words now and then,
pretty French phrases that caress the ear. One of them is so strikingly
beautiful that I cannot take my eyes from her when they have been
tempted to that quarter. She speaks with indescribable grace and
animation, has the sweetest eyes and lips--

'And all the time I am thinking of some one else. Ah, if _you_ were
here! How we would enjoy ourselves among these southern scenes! Alone,
it is delightful; but with you for a companion, with you to talk about
everything in your splendidly frank way! This French girl's talk is of
course only silly chatter; it makes me long to hear a few words from
your lips--strong, brave, intelligent.

'I dream of the ideal possibility. Suppose I were to look up and see
you standing just in front of me, there on the pavement. You have come
in