d manner. It happened one morning that he
glanced through a local paper while waiting at the Lord-Quantock-Arms
for the pony-carriage to be brought round in which he often drove to the
castle. The paper was two days old, but to his unutterable amazement he
read therein a paragraph which ran as follows:--

'We are informed that a marriage is likely to be arranged between
Captain De Stancy, of the Royal Horse Artillery, only surviving son of
Sir William De Stancy, Baronet, and Paula, only daughter of the late
John Power, Esq., M.P., of Stancy Castle.'

Somerset dropped the paper, and stared out of the window. Fortunately
for his emotions, the horse and carriage were at this moment brought to
the door, so that nothing hindered Somerset in driving off to the spot
at which he would be soonest likely to learn what truth or otherwise
there was in the newspaper report. From the first he doubted it: and
yet how should it have got there? Such strange rumours, like paradoxical
maxims, generally include a portion of truth. Five days had elapsed
since he last spoke to Paula.

Reaching the castle he entered his own quarters as usual, and after
setting the draughtsmen to work walked up and down pondering how he
might best see her without making the paragraph the ground of his
request for an interview; for if it were a fabrication, such a reason
would wound her pride in her own honour towards him, and if it were
partly true, he would certainly do better in leaving her alone than in
reproaching her. It would simply amount to a proof that Paula was an
arrant coquette.

In his meditation he stood still, closely scanning one of the
jamb-stones of a doorless entrance, as if to discover where the old
hinge-hook had entered the stonework. He heard a footstep behind him,
and looking round saw Paula standing by. She held a newspaper in her
hand. The spot was one quite hemmed in from observation, a fact of which
she seemed to be quite aware.

'I have something to tell you,' she said; 'something important. But you
are so occupied with that old stone that I am obliged to wait.'

'It is not true surely!' he said, looking at the paper.

'No, look here,' she said, holding up the sheet. It was not what he had
supposed, but a new one--the local rival to that which had contained
the announcement, and was still damp from the press. She pointed, and he
read--

'We are authorized to state that there is no foundation whatever for the
assertion of