the little story to which it referred, he sat down to write,
and tore up sheet after sheet in disgust, for he had never given much
study to the childish understanding, with its unexpected deeps and
shallows, and found the task of writing down to it go much against the
grain. But the desire of satisfying a more fastidious critic than
Dolly gave him at last a kind of inspiration, and the letter he did
send, with some misgiving, could hardly have been better written for
the particular purpose.

He was pleasantly reassured as to this a day or two later by another
little note from Dolly, asking him to come to tea at Kensington Park
Gardens on any afternoon except Monday or Thursday, and adding
(evidently by external suggestion) that her mother and sister would be
pleased to make his acquaintance.

Mark read this with a thrill of eager joy. What he had longed for had
come to pass, then; he was to see her, speak with her, once more. At
least he was indebted to 'Illusion' for this result, which a few
months since seemed of all things the most unlikely. This time,
perhaps, she would not leave him without a word or sign, as when last
they met; he might be allowed to come again; even in time to know her
intimately.

And he welcomed this piece of good fortune as a happy omen for the
future.

CHAPTER XIV.

IN THE SPRING.

Mark lost no time in obeying Dolly's summons, and it was with an
exhilaration a little tempered by a nervousness to which he was not
usually subject that he leaped into the dipping and lurching hansom
that was to carry him to Kensington Park Gardens.

As Mark drove through the Park across the Serpentine, and saw the
black branches of the trees looking as if they had all been sprinkled
with a feathery green powder, and noticed the new delicacy in the
bright-hued grass, he hailed these signs as fresh confirmation of the
approach of summer--a summer that might prove a golden one for him.

But as he drew nearer Notting Hill, his spirits sank again. What if
this opportunity were to collapse as hopelessly as the first? Mabel
would of course have forgotten him--would she let him drop
indifferently as before? He felt far from hopeful as he rang the bell.

He asked for Miss Dorothy Langton, giving his name as 'Mr. Ernstone,'
and was shown into a little room filled with the pretty contrivances
which the modern young lady collects around her. He found Dolly there
alone, in a very stately and self-possesse