us. When you meet I know you will be
friends. He is in elysium when he can get a good scholar to talk to, and
he will want you to send him all sorts of archaeological intelligence
from Rome."

"I have a piece of news too--hopeful news from Christie," said Harry,
producing one of the artist's rapid scratches. "It is to tell me that he
is on the committee of a new illustrated magazine of art which is to
start at Christmas, and that he is sure I can help them with the
letter-press department while we are in Italy."

"Of course you can. And they will require a story: that sweet story of
yours has some picture bits that would be exquisite if they fell into
the hands of a sympathetic artist. Let us send it to Christie, Harry
dear."

"Very well: nothing venture, nothing have. The manuscript is with you.
Take Christie's letter for his address; you will see that he wants an
answer without loss of time. He is going to be married very shortly, and
will be out of town till November."

"I will despatch the story by to-day's post, and a few lines of what I
think of it: independent criticism is useful sometimes."

Harry looked at her, laughing and saying with a humorous deprecation,
"Bessie's independent criticism!"

Bessie blushed and laughed too, but steadfastly affirmed, "Indeed,
Harry, if I did not think it the prettiest story I ever read I would not
tell you so. Lady Latimer said it was pretty, and you cannot accuse her
of loving you too much."

"No. And that brings me to another matter. I wish you would come away
from Fairfield: come here, Bessie. In this rambling old house there is
room enough and to spare, and you shall have all the liberty you please.
I don't see you as often or for as long as I want, and the order of
things is quite reversed: I would much rather set out to walk to you
than wait and watch for your appearance."

"Had I not better go home? My little old nest under the thatch is empty,
and the boys are away."

"Come here first for a week; we have never stayed in one house together
since we were children. I want to see my dear little Bessie every hour
of the day. At Fairfield you are caged. When her ladyship puts on her
grand manner and towers she is very daunting to a poor lover."

"She has not seen you since you left London, Harry. I should like you to
meet; then I think she might forgive us," said Bessie, with a wistful
regret. Sometimes she was highly indignant with my lady, but in the
depths of