rence to her letter was a concession, made on the moment's impulse.
Her rejecting it so unmistakably looked serious. Had she even ceased to
be jealous?

In the course of the afternoon, one of Mrs. Gluck's servants deposited
a parcel in his chamber. When he found it, he bit his lips. Indeed,
things looked serious at last. He passed the hours till dinner in
rather comfortless solitude.

But at dinner he was opposite Cecily, and he thought he had never seen
her so brilliant. Perhaps the day in the open air--there was a fresh
breeze--had warmed the exquisite colour of her cheeks and given her
eyes an even purer radiance than of wont. The dress she wore was not
new to him, but its perfection made stronger appeal to his senses than
previously. How divine were the wreaths and shadowings of her hair!
With what gracile loveliness did her neck bend as she spoke to Mrs.
Lessingham! What hand ever shone with more delicate beauty than hers in
the offices of the meal? It pained him to look at Madeline and make
comparison.

Moreover, Cecily met his glance, and smiled--smiled with adorable
frankness. From that moment he rejoiced at what had taken place to-day.
It had left him his complete freedom. Good; he had given Madeline a
final chance, and she had neglected it. In every sense he was at
liberty to turn his thoughts elsewhither, and now he felt that he had
even received encouragement.

"We had an unexpected meeting with Mr. Elgar," were Cecily's words,
when she spoke to her aunt of the day's excursion.

Mrs. Lessingham showed surprise, and noticed that Cecily kept glancing
over the columns of a newspaper she had carelessly taken up.

"At Pompeii?"

"Yes; in the Street of Tombs. For some reason, he had delayed on his
journey."

"I'm not surprised."

"Why?"

"Delay is one of his characteristics, isn't it?" returned the elder
lady, with unaccustomed tartness. "A minor branch of the root of
inefficiency."

"I am afraid so."

Cecily laughed, and began to read aloud an amusing passage from the
paper. Her aunt put no further question; but after dinner sought Mrs.
Bradshaw, and had a little talk on the subject. Mrs. Bradshaw allowed
herself no conjectures; in her plain way she merely confirmed what
Cecily had said, adding that Elgar had taken leave of them at the
railway-station.

"Possibly Mrs. Baske knew that her brother would be there?" surmised
Mrs. Lessingham, as though the point were of no moment.

"Oh no! not a b