om in which she had passed the intervening time as before, she read:--

'Miss Barbara Bell's terms were accidentally understated. They would be
forty guineas, in consequence of the distance. Am waiting at the office
for a reply.'

Paula set to work as before and replied:--

'Quite satisfactory; only let her come at once.'

She did not leave the room this time, but went to an arrow-slit hard
by and gazed out at the trees till the instrument began to speak again.
Returning to it with a leisurely manner, implying a full persuasion that
the matter was settled, she was somewhat surprised to learn that,

'Miss Bell, in stating her terms, understands that she will not be
required to leave London till the middle of the afternoon. If it
is necessary for her to leave at once, ten guineas extra would be
indispensable, on account of the great inconvenience of such a short
notice.'

Paula seemed a little vexed, but not much concerned she sent back with a
readiness scarcely politic in the circumstances:--

'She must start at once. Price agreed to.'

Her impatience for the answer was mixed with curiosity as to whether it
was due to the agent or to Miss Barbara Bell that the prices had grown
like Jack's Bean-stalk in the negotiation. Another telegram duly came:--

'Travelling expenses are expected to be paid.'

With decided impatience she dashed off:--

'Of course; but nothing more will be agreed to.'

Then, and only then, came the desired reply:--

'Miss Bell starts by the twelve o'clock train.'

This business being finished, Paula left the chamber and descended into
the inclosure called the Pleasance, a spot grassed down like a lawn.
Here stood Somerset, who, having come down from the tower, was looking
on while a man searched for old foundations under the sod with a
crowbar. He was glad to see her at last, and noticed that she looked
serene and relieved; but could not for the moment divine the cause.
Paula came nearer, returned his salutation, and regarded the man's
operations in silence awhile till his work led him to a distance from
them.

'Do you still wish to consult me?' asked Somerset.

'About the building perhaps,' said she. 'Not about the play.'

'But you said so?'

'Yes; but it will be unnecessary.'

Somerset thought this meant skittishness, and merely bowed.

'You mistake me as usual,' she said, in a low tone. 'I am not going to
consult you on that matter, because I have done all you could have aske