h money. But I was very dizzy from
the motion of the vessel, and I thought I had better sit down. He found
this place for me here, and he went off to the banker's himself. I am to
wait here till he comes back."

It may seem very fantastic, but it passed through my mind that he would
never come back. I settled myself in my chair beside Miss Spencer and
determined to await the event. She was extremely observant; there was
something touching in it. She noticed everything that the movement of
the street brought before us,--peculiarities of costume, the shapes of
vehicles, the big Norman horses, the fat priests, the shaven poodles.
We talked of these things, and there was something charming in her
freshness of perception and the way her book-nourished fancy recognized
and welcomed everything.

"And when your cousin comes back, what are you going to do?" I asked.

She hesitated a moment. "We don't quite know."

"When do you go to Paris? If you go by the four o'clock train, I may
have the pleasure of making the journey with you."

"I don't think we shall do that. My cousin thinks I had better stay here
a few days."

"Oh!" said I; and for five minutes said nothing more. I was wondering
what her cousin was, in vulgar parlance, "up to." I looked up and
down the street, but saw nothing that looked like a bright American
art-student. At last I took the liberty of observing that Havre was
hardly a place to choose as one of the aesthetic stations of a European
tour. It was a place of convenience, nothing more; a place of transit,
through which transit should be rapid. I recommended her to go to Paris
by the afternoon train, and meanwhile to amuse herself by driving to the
ancient fortress at the mouth of the harbor,--that picturesque circular
structure which bore the name of Francis the First, and looked like a
small castle of St. Angelo. (It has lately been demolished.)

She listened with much interest; then for a moment she looked grave.

"My cousin told me that when he returned he should have something
particular to say to me, and that we could do nothing or decide nothing
until I should have heard it. But I will make him tell me quickly, and
then we will go to the ancient fortress. There is no hurry to get to
Paris; there is plenty of time."

She smiled with her softly severe little lips as she spoke those last
words. But I, looking at her with a purpose, saw just a tiny gleam of
apprehension in her eye.

"Don't tell