course was in his favour; his manner was bright and
pleasant: and so Mabel found it agreeable to listen to her mother's
praise of their departed visitor.

'A very charming young man, my dear. You've only to look at him to see
he's a true genius; and so unaffected and pleasant with it all. Quite
an acquisition, really.'

'_I_ found him, mother,' interrupted Dolly; 'he wouldn't have come but
for me. But I'm rather disappointed in him myself; he didn't seem to
care to talk to _me_ much; and I don't believe he knows much about
fairies.'

'Don't be ungrateful, Dolly,' said Mabel. 'Who saved Frisk for you?'

'Oh, _he_ did; I know all that; but not because he liked Frisk, or me
either. It was because--I don't know _why_ it was because.'

'Because he is a good young man, I suppose,' said Mrs. Langton
instructively.

'No, it wasn't that; he doesn't look so _very_ good; not so good as
poor Vincent did; more good than Harold, though. But he doesn't care
about dogs, and he doesn't care about me, and I don't care about
him!' concluded Dolly, rather defiantly.

As for Mark, he left the house thoroughly and helplessly in love. As
he walked back to his rooms he found a dreamy pleasure in recalling
the different stages of the interview. Mabel's slender figure as she
stood opposite him by the mantelpiece, her reserve at first, and the
manner in which it had thawed to a frank and gracious interest; the
suspicion of a critical but not unkindly mockery in her eyes and tone
at times--it all came back to him with a vividness that rendered him
deaf and blind to his actual surroundings. He saw again the group in
the dim, violet-scented drawing-room, the handsome languid woman
murmuring her pleasant commonplaces, and the pretty child lecturing
the prodigal dog, and still felt the warm light touch of Mabel's hand
as it had lain in his for an instant at parting.

This time, too, the parting was not without hope; he might look
forward to seeing her again after this. A summer of golden dreams and
fancies had indeed begun for him from that day, and as he thought
again that he owed these high privileges to 'Illusion,' events seemed
more than ever to be justifying an act which was fast becoming as
remote and unreproachful as acts will, when the dread of
discovery--that great awakener of conscience--is sleeping too.

CHAPTER XV.

HAROLD CAFFYN MAKES A DISCOVERY.

Harold Caffyn had not found much improvement in his professional
pro