hed the landing and
she waited for Arnold to open the door leading into the private
room, "how is the little invalid girl this morning?"

"The little invalid girl is well," Arnold replied.

"She was not too tired yesterday, I hope?" Fenella asked.

"Not in the least," Arnold assured her. "We both of us felt that we
did not thank you half enough for our wonderful day."

"Oh, la, la!" Fenella exclaimed. "It was a whim of mine, that is
all. I liked having you both there. Some day you must come again,
and, if you are very good, I may let you bring the young lady,
though I'm not so sure of that. Do you know that my brother was
asking me questions about her until I thought my head would swim
last night?" she continued, curiously.

"Count Sabatini was very kind to her," Arnold remarked. "Poor little
girl, I am afraid she is going to have rather a rough time. She had
quite an alarming experience last night after our return."

"You must tell me all about it presently," Fenella declared. "Shall
we take this little round table near the window? It will be
delightful, that, for when we are tired with one another we can
watch the people in the street. Have you ever sat and watched the
people in the street, Arnold?"

"Not often," he answered, giving his hat to a waiter and following
her across the little room. "You see, there are not many people to
watch from the windows of where I live, but there is always the
river."

"A terribly dreary place," Fenella declared.

Arnold shook his head.

"Don't believe it," he replied. "Only a short time ago, the days
were very dark indeed. Ruth and I together did little else except
watch the barges come up, and the slowly moving vessels, and the
lights, and the swarms of people on Blackfriars Bridge. Life was all
watching then."

"One would weary soon," she murmured, "of being a spectator. You are
scarcely that now."

"There has been a great change," he answered simply. "In those days
I was very near starvation. I had no idea how I was going to find
work. Yet even then I found myself longing for adventures of any
sort,--anything to quicken the blood, to feel the earth swell
beneath my feet."

She was watching him with that curious look in her eyes which he
never wholly understood--half mocking, half tender.

"And after all," she murmured, "you found your way to Tooley Street
and the office of Mr. Samuel Weatherley."

She threw herself back in her chair and laughed so irresistibl