place altogether with marked contempt.

"I do not care for these pictures," she said. "I will leave now, if you
please," and she moved towards the door.

"Stop!" cried Iden, stretching out his hands and tottering after her.
"Stop! I order you to stop! you rude girl!"

He could not catch her, she had left the gallery--he slipped in his
haste on the polished floor. Fred caught him by the arm or he would have
fallen, and at the same time presented him with his great white hat.

"Ungrateful!" he shrieked, and then choked and slobbered and mumbled,
and I verily believe had it not been for his veneration of the place he
would have spat upon the floor.

Raleigh had rushed after Amaryllis, and overtook her at the staircase.

"Pardon me, Miss Iden," he said, as she hastily descended. "Really I
should have liked you to have seen the house--will you sit down a
moment? Forgive me if I said or did----. No, do stay--please--"
as she made straight for the hall. "I am so sorry--really
sorry--unintentional"--in fact he had done nothing, and yet he was
penitent. But she would not listen, she hurried on along the path, she
began to run, or nearly, as he kept up with her, still begging her to
pause; Amaryllis ran at last outright. "At least let me see you through
the fair--rough people. Let me open the door----"

The iron-studded door in the wall shut with a spring lock, and for a
moment she could not unfasten it; she tore at it and grazed her hand,
the blood started.

"Good Heavens!" cried Raleigh, now thoroughly upset. "Let me bind it
up," taking out his handkerchief. "I would not have had this happen for
money"--short for any amount of money. "Let me----"

"Do please leave me," cried Amaryllis, panting, not with the run, which
was nothing to her, but pent-up indignation, and still trying to open
the lock.

Raleigh pressed the lock and the door swung open--he could easily have
detained her there, but he did not. "One moment, pray--Miss Iden." She
was gone down the passage between the Abbey church and the wall; he
followed, she darted out into the crowd of the fair.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XVIII.

WHEN he stopped and turned, angry beyond measure, vexation biting deep
lines like aquafortis on his broad, good-natured face.

"That I should have been such a fool--an infernal blockheaded
fool--" shutting the iron-studded door with a kick and a
clang--"muddle-headed fool--I'll never touch a drop