your own probable address?"

"It is so uncertain. But I am sure mamma would have pleasure in sending
it, when we arc settled."

"Thank you so very much." He looked up after long meditation. "I really
do _not_ know what I shall do when you are gone, Miss Denyer."

And then, without warning, he said good-night and walked away. Barbara,
who had thought that the conversation was just about to become
interesting, felt her heart sink into unfathomable depths. She went
back to her bedroom and cried wretchedly for a long time.

In consequence of private talk with his wife, when the family conclave
had broken up, Mr. Denyer went in search of Clifford Marsh. They had
met only once hitherto, six months ago, when Mr. Denyer paid a flying
visit to London, and had just time to make the acquaintance of his
prospective son-in-law. This afternoon they walked together for an hour
about the Chiaia, with the result that an understanding of some kind
seemed to be arrived at between them.

Mr. Denyer returned to the _pension_, and, when dinnertime approached,
surprised Madeline with the proposal that she should come out and dine
with him at a restaurant.

"The fact is," he whispered to her, with a laugh, "my appearance is not
quite up to the standard of your dinner-table. I'm rather too careless
about these things; it's doubtful whether I possess a decent suit. Let
us go and find a quiet corner somewhere--if a fashionable young lady
will do me so much honour."

Through Madeline's mind there passed a suspicion, but a
restaurant-dinner hit her taste, and she accepted the invitation
readily. Before long, they drove into the town. Perhaps in recognition
of her having taken his part against idle reproaches, her father began,
as soon as they were alone, to talk in a grave, earnest way about his
affairs; and Madeline, who liked above all things to be respectfully
treated, entered into the subject with dutiful consideration. He showed
her exactly how his misfortunes had accumulated, how this and that
project had been a failure, what unadvised steps he had taken in fear
of impending calamity Snugly seated at the little marble table, they
grew very confidential indeed. Mr. Denyer avowed his hope--the hope
ever-retreating, though sometimes it had seemed within reach--of being
able some day to find rest for the sole of his foot, to settle down
with his family and enjoy a quiet close of life. Possibly this
undertaking at Vera Cruz would be his