own poor part, I think what people are is what matters, but I don't
suppose you'll agree. And I should like you to know that Gino's uncle is
a priest--the same as a clergyman at home."

Philip was aware of the social position of an Italian priest, and said
so much about it that Lilia interrupted him with, "Well, his cousin's a
lawyer at Rome."

"What kind of 'lawyer'?"

"Why, a lawyer just like you are--except that he has lots to do and can
never get away."

The remark hurt more than he cared to show. He changed his method, and
in a gentle, conciliating tone delivered the following speech:--

"The whole thing is like a bad dream--so bad that it cannot go on. If
there was one redeeming feature about the man I might be uneasy. As it
is I can trust to time. For the moment, Lilia, he has taken you in,
but you will find him out soon. It is not possible that you, a lady,
accustomed to ladies and gentlemen, will tolerate a man whose position
is--well, not equal to the son of the servants' dentist in Coronation
Place. I am not blaming you now. But I blame the glamour of Italy--I
have felt it myself, you know--and I greatly blame Miss Abbott."

"Caroline! Why blame her? What's all this to do with Caroline?"

"Because we expected her to--" He saw that the answer would involve him
in difficulties, and, waving his hand, continued, "So I am confident,
and you in your heart agree, that this engagement will not last. Think
of your life at home--think of Irma! And I'll also say think of us; for
you know, Lilia, that we count you more than a relation. I should feel
I was losing my own sister if you did this, and my mother would lose a
daughter."

She seemed touched at last, for she turned away her face and said, "I
can't break it off now!"

"Poor Lilia," said he, genuinely moved. "I know it may be painful. But
I have come to rescue you, and, book-worm though I may be, I am not
frightened to stand up to a bully. He's merely an insolent boy. He
thinks he can keep you to your word by threats. He will be different
when he sees he has a man to deal with."

What follows should be prefaced with some simile--the simile of a
powder-mine, a thunderbolt, an earthquake--for it blew Philip up in the
air and flattened him on the ground and swallowed him up in the depths.
Lilia turned on her gallant defender and said--

"For once in my life I'll thank you to leave me alone. I'll thank your
mother too. For twelve years you've trained me an