d made him
understand that this spot and this time were too dangerous.

"Tell me where I can see you safely," he asked, almost demanded.

"You can see me safely--nowhere."

"Nowhere? You mean that you won't----"

"Harry, come here a minute--there--no closer. I just want to be able
to touch your hair. Go away, dear--yes, I said 'dear.' Do please go
away. You--you won't be any happier afterward for having--if--if you
don't go away."

He stood irresolutely still. Her fingers lightly touched his hair, and
then her arm dropped at her side. He saw a tear run down her cheek.
Suddenly his own face turned crimson.

"I'm--I'm very sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean----"

"Good-night. I'm going in."

She held out her hand. Again he bent and kissed it, and, as he did so,
he felt the light touch of her lips among his hair.

"I'm such a foolish, foolish woman," she whispered, "but you're a
gentleman, Harry," and she drew her hand away and left him.

Two days later she took her children off to the seaside. And the
Mortimers never came back to Natterley. She wrote and told Mrs.
Sterling that George wanted to be nearer his work in town, and that
they had gone to live at Wimbledon.

"How we shall miss her!" exclaimed good Mrs. Sterling. "Poor Harry!
what'll he say?"

III.

One day, at Brighton, some six years later, a lady in widow's weeds,
accompanied by a long, loose-limbed boy of fourteen, was taking the air
by the sea. The place was full of people, and the scene gay.

Mrs. Mortimer sat down on a seat and Johnnie stood idly by her.
Presently a young man and a girl came along. While they were still a
long way off, Mrs. Mortimer, who was looking in that direction,
suddenly leaned forward, started a little, and looked hard at them.
Johnnie, noticing nothing, whistled unconcernedly.

The couple drew near. Mrs. Mortimer sat with a faint smile on her
face. The girl was chatting merrily to the young man, and he listened
to her and laughed every now and then, but his bright eyes were not
fixed on her, but were here, there, and everywhere, where metal
attractive to such eyes might be found. The discursive mood of the eyes
somehow pleased Mrs. Mortimer. Just as the young man came opposite her,
he glanced in her direction.

Mrs. Mortimer wore the curious, half-indifferent, half-expectant air of
one ready for recognition, but not claiming it as a right.

At the first glance, a puzzled look came into the