stify him. But, even under these circumstances, there was a residue of
suspicion still left in her mind. She asked for the name of the lady to
whose benevolent assistance Amelius had been indebted. Rufus took out
one of his cards, and wrote Mrs. Payson's name and address on it.

"Your nature, my dear, is not quite so confiding as I could have wished
to see it," he said, quietly handing her the card. "But we can't change
our natures--can we? And you're not bound to believe a man like me,
without witnesses to back him. Write to Mrs. Payson, and make your mind
easy. And, while we are about it, tell me where I can telegraph to you
tomorrow--I'm off to London by the night mail."

"Do you mean, you are going to see Amelius?

"That is so. I'm too fond of Amelius to let this trouble rest where 'tis
now. I've been away from him, here in Paris, for some little time--and
you may tell me (and quite right, too) I can't answer for what may have
been going on in my absence. No! now we are about it, we'll have it out.
I mean to see Amelius and see Mrs. Payson, tomorrow morning. Just tell
your uncle to hold his hand, before he breaks off your marriage, and
wait for a telegram from me. Well? and this is your address, is it?
I know the hotel. A nice look-out on the Twillery Gardens--but a bad
cellar of wine, as I hear. I'm at the Grand Hotel myself, if there's
anything else that troubles you before evening. Now I look at you again,
I reckon there's something more to be said, if you'll only let it find
its way to your tongue. No; it ain't thanks. We'll take the gratitude
for granted, and get to what's behind it. There's your carriage--and the
good lady looks tired of waiting. Well, now?"

"It's only one thing," Regina acknowledged, with her eyes on the ground
again. "Perhaps, when you go to London, you may see the--"

"The girl?"

"Yes."

"It's not likely. Say I do see her--what then?"

Regina's colour began to show itself again. "If you do see her," she
said, "I beg and entreat you won't speak of _me_ in her hearing. I
should die of the shame of it, if she thought herself asked to give him
up out of pity for me. Promise I am not to be brought forward; promise
you won't even mention my having spoken to you about it. On your word of
honour!"

Rufus gave her his promise, without showing any hesitation, or making
any remark. But when she shook hands with him, on returning to the
carriage, he held her hand for a moment. "Please to ex