tten."

"One would have thought so."

"Have you seen Mrs. Lessingham?"

"Yes."

"Then you understand everything. I repeat that I am ashamed of my
behaviour to you. For days--since last Saturday--I have been little
better than a madman. On Saturday I went to say good-bye to Mrs.
Lessingham and her niece; it was _bona fide_, Mallard."

"In your sense of the phrase. Go on."

"I tell you, I then meant to leave Naples," pursued Elgar, who had
repeated this so often to himself, by way of palliation, that he had
come to think it true. "It was not my fault that I couldn't when that
visit was over. It happened that I saw Miss Doran alone--sat talking
with her till her aunt returned."

Mrs. Lessingham had made no mention of this little matter. Hearing of
it, Mallard ejaculated mentally, "Idiot!"

"It was all over with me. I broke faith with you--as I should have done
with any man; as I should have done if the lives of a hundred people
had depended on my coming. I didn't write, because I preferred not to
write lies, and if I had told the truth, I knew you would come at once.
To be sure, silence might have had the same result, but I had to risk
something, and I risked that."

"I marvel at your disinclination to lie."

"What do you mean by saying that?" broke out Elgar, with natural warmth.

"I mean simply what I say. Go on."

"After all, Mallard, I don't quite know why you should take this tone
with me. If a man falls in love, he thinks of nothing but how to gain
his end; I should think even you can take that for granted. My broken
promise is a trifle in view of what caused it."

"Again, in _your_ view. In mine it is by no means a trifle. It
distinguishes you from honourable men, that's all; a point of some
moment, I should think, when your character is expressly under
discussion."

"You mean, of course, that I am not worthy of Cecily. I can't grant any
such conclusion."

"Let us leave that aside for the present," said Mallard. "Will you tell
me how it came to pass that you met Miss Doran and her companions at
Pompeii?"

Elgar hesitated; whereupon the other added quickly:

"If it was with Miss Doran's anticipation, I want no details."

"No, it wasn't."

Their looks met.

"By chance, then, of course?" said Mallard, sourly.

Elgar spoke on an impulse, leaning forward.

"Look, I won't lie to you. Miriam told me they were going. I met her
that morning, when I was slinking about, and I compelled her to give