g of;
but surely I might ask--"

"Once for all, I will not be questioned. There never lived that man or
woman who could thread their way safely through difficulties, if they
waited to have every obstacle canvassed and every possible mystery
explained. You must leave me to my own guidance here; and one of its
first conditions is, not to shake my confidence in myself."

"Won't you even tell me when we 're to be one?"

"What an ardent lover it is!" said she, laughing. "There, fetch me
my shawl, and let me see that you know how to put it properly on
my shoulders. No liberties, sir! and least of all when they crush a
Parisian bonnet. The evening is falling already, and I must set off
homewards."

"Won't you give me a seat in the carriage with you? Surely, you 'd not
see me ride back in such a downpour as that."

"I should think I would. I 'd leave you to go it on foot rather than
commit such an indiscretion. Drive back to Rome with Mr. O'Shea alone!
What would the world say? What would Sir William Heathcote say, who
expects to make me Lady Heathcote some early day next month?"

"By the way, I heard that story. An old fellow, called Nick Holmes, told
me--"

"What old Nick told you could scarcely be true. There, will you order
the carriage to the door, and give these good people some money? Ain't
you charmed that I give you one of a husband's privileges so early?
Don't dare to answer me; an Irishman never has the discretion to reply
to a liberty as he ought. Is that poor beast yours?" asked she, as they
gained the door, and saw a horse standing, all shivering and wretched,
under a frail shed.

"He was this morning, but I had the good luck to sell him before I took
this ride."

"I must really compliment you," said she, laughing heartily. "A
gentleman who makes love so economically ought to be a model of order
when a husband." And with this she stepped in, and drove away.

CHAPTER II. A DINNER OF TWO

The O'Shea returned to Rome at a "slapping pace." He did his eight miles
of heavy ground within forty minutes. But neither the speed nor the
storm could turn his thoughts from the scene he had just passed through.
It was with truth he said that he could not give credit to the fact of
such good fortune as to believe she would accept him; and yet the more
he reflected on the subject, the more was he puzzled and disconcerted.
When he had last seen her, she refused him,--refused him absolutely
and flatly; she even