ou talk of loving
me," she said, drawing back from him with a look of reproach; "and you
don't even believe what I say to you." She stopped, and looked behind
her with a faint cry of alarm. Hurried footsteps were audible on the
other side of the evergreens that screened them. Amelius stepped back to
a turn in the path, and discovered Phoebe.

"Don't stay a moment longer, sir!" cried the girl. "I've been to the
house--and Mrs. Ormond isn't there--and nobody knows where she is. Get
out by the gate, sir, while you have the chance."

Amelius returned to Regina. "I mustn't get the girl into a scrape," he
said. "You know where to write to me. Good-bye."

Regina made a sign to the maid to retire. Amelius had never taken leave
of her as he was taking leave of her now. She forgot the fervent embrace
and the daring kisses--she was desperate at the bare idea of losing him.
"Oh, Amelius, don't doubt that I love you! Say you believe I love you!
Kiss me before you go!"

He kissed her--but, ah, not as he had kissed her before. He said the
words she wanted him to say--but only to please her, not with all his
heart. She let him go; reproaches would be wasted at that moment.

Phoebe found her pale and immovable, rooted to the spot on which they
had parted. "Dear, dear me, miss, what's gone wrong?"

And her mistress answered wildly, in words that had never before passed
her placid lips, "O Phoebe, I wish I was dead!"

Such was the impression left on the mind of Regina by the interview in
the shrubbery.

The impression left on the mind of Amelius was stated in equally strong
language, later in the day. His American friend asked innocently for
news, and was answered in these terms:

"Find something to occupy my mind, Rufus, or I shall throw the whole
thing over and go to the devil."

The wise man from New England was too wise to trouble Amelius with
questions, under these circumstances. "Is that so?" was all he said.
Then he put his hand in his pocket, and, producing a letter, laid it
quietly on the table.

"For me?" Amelius asked.

"You wanted something to occupy your mind," the wily Rufus answered.
"There 'tis."

Amelius read the letter. It was dated, "Hampden Institution." The
secretary invited Amelius, in highly complimentary terms, to lecture,
in the hall of the Institution, on Christian Socialism as taught and
practised in the Community at Tadmor. He was offered two-thirds of the
profits derived from the sale of pla