e while ago, you will probably not be coming
up-country at all. Then we shall never see each other again."

"Even then, why should we not?"

"Why? Why, because the chance that--that made us meet now is not likely
to recur. That sort of blessed luck is not apt to duplicate in this
vale of woe. Not much."

She smiled, softly, tenderly. The self-contained John Ames was waxing
vehement. His words were tumbling over each other. He could hardly get
them out quick enough.

"And would you mind so very much if it did not?"

"Yes."

"So would I."

Then silence for a few moments. They were walking along a high-road.
At very short intervals the ubiquitous cyclist--singly or in pairs--shot
noiselessly by, or here and there a coloured pedestrian, seated by the
roadside, eyed them indifferently.

"Why should we lose sight of each other?" said John Ames at length. "Do
you know--this time we have had together has been--has been one that I
could never have dreamed of as within the bounds of possibility."

"We have had a good time, haven't we?" assented Nidia, demurely, though
conscious of a quickening pulse. "And now, I don't mind telling you
something--because I have failed to discover one atom of conceit in your
composition--so I don't mind telling you--"

"What?"

The interruption was startling. The voice was dry, the face stony. Had
he but known it the interrupter was going up many degrees in the
speaker's estimation.

"Only that I shall miss you dreadfully--when you are gone."

Nidia's mischievous demureness simply bubbled with enjoyment at the look
of relief which came over the other's features. She continued--

"As you say, why _should_ we lose sight of each other? You may write to
me occasionally--when you can spare the time required for the saving of
your country from all the ills that threaten it. But--let's see, I--oh,
well, never mind--I was going to say something, but I won't. And now--
we must not be serious any more. We have had a lovely day, the
loveliest day we could possibly have had, and we are going to have a
lovely ride back. Here we are at the hotel again."

The significance of the tone, the veiled emphasis which underlay the
remark, was not lost upon the listener. John Ames was one who knew when
to let well alone. Patience, tact, a judicious mind, were all among his
qualifications for his responsible and difficult post. Should they fail
him in a matter where private feeling,