lence
on his part that if he did slightly distrust her, hold her a little
cheap, he would hardly venture to say as much, least of all to
Damaris.--Venture or condescend?--Again Mrs. Frayling left the term in
doubt and went forward with her schemes, which did, unquestionably just
now, add a pleasing zest to life.

The innocent subject of these machinations received both the note and its
bearer in a friendly spirit, though she was already, as it happened, rich
in letters to-day. The bi-weekly packet from Deadham--addressed in Mary
Fisher's careful copy-book hand--arrived at luncheon time, and
contained, among much of apparently lesser interest, a diverting
chronicle of Tom Verity's impressions and experiences during the first
six weeks of his Indian sojourn. The young man's gaily self-confident
humour had survived his transplantation. He wrote in high feather, quite
unabashed by the novelty of his surroundings, yet not forgetting to pay
honour where honour was due.

"It has been 'roses, roses all the way' thanks to Sir Charles's
introductions, for which I can never be sufficiently grateful," he told
her. "They have procured me no end of delightful hospitality from the
great ones of the local earth, and really priceless opportunities of
getting into touch with questions of ruling importance over here. I am
letting my people at home know how very much I owe, and always shall owe,
to his kindness in using his influence on my behalf at the start."

Damaris glowed responsive to this fine flourish of a tone, and passed the
letter across the small round dinner table to her father. Opened a fat
packet, enclosed in an envelope of exaggerated tenuity, from Miss
Felicia, only to put it aside in favour of another letter bearing an
Italian stamp and directed in a, to her, unfamiliar hand.

This was modest in bulk as compared with Miss Felicia's; but while
examining it, while touching it even, Damaris became aware of an inward
excitement, of a movement of tenderness not to be ignored or denied.

Startled by her own prescience, and the agitation accompanying it, she
looked up quickly to find Carteret watching her; whereupon, mutely,
instinctively, her eyes besought him to ask no questions, make no
comment. For an appreciable space he kept her in suspense, his glance
holding and challenging hers in close observation. Then as though,
not without a measure of struggle, granting her request, he smiled
at her, and, turning his attention