nywhere, she would certainly have returned
to her child before that hour. The next night he sent a messenger to
inquire for her address, and the boy said, "It was not known. Mrs.
Tresham had left two weeks before. She had spoken of England, but it
was not positively known that she had gone there."

"She is likely in St. Penfer by this time," mentally commented Roland,
and the thought gave him comfort. He did want Denasia and the baby to
be taken care of, and he knew they would want no necessary thing in
John Penelles' cottage. But it was this very certainty of Denasia's
return to England which really detained Roland in America. He had no
desire to meet John Penelles until time had healed the wound he had
given John's daughter. John would be sure to seek him out in London,
and there might be no end of trouble; but John would not come to
America, nor would he be likely in the summer season to leave the
fishing and seek him either in Paris or Switzerland. As for Elizabeth,
she knew from her brother's letters that he had deceived and left his
wife, and she had, of course, thought it proper to offer a feeble
remonstrance, but Roland knew right well she would never betray his
hiding-place.

So Roland lived on week after week in luxurious thoughtlessness. Mr.
Lanhearne grew very fond of him, and Ada, in spite of her numerous
objects of charitable interest, found it singularly pleasant to
discuss with so handsome and intelligent a companion religious topics
on which their opinions were widely apart. Indeed, she honestly
accepted the evident duty of leading him back to the safe and narrow
road of creditable dogmas. And with such a fair, earnest teacher it
was easy, it was natural for Roland to affect an interest in the
subject he did not really feel.

Dangerous ground for both, but especially so for the lovely young
woman whose sincerity and singleness of purpose led her to believe
that a very natural and womanly instinct was the prompting of a
spiritual concern for an immortal soul wandering from the right path.
Roland as a hypocrite, affecting a piety he despised, would not have
been either so captivating or so dangerous as Roland honestly ignorant
and doubtful, yet willing to be taught and convinced.

Dangerous ground for both, for both constantly assured themselves
there was no danger. Ada Lanhearne was not a woman that any man could
approach with laughter or half-concealed flirtation. And Roland had
no desire to overst