perplexities and fears grew.

"Of course it can't be _that_," she assured herself again and again, but
with a dreadful catch at her heart. "Oh no, it can't be _that_."

"That," was the separation which some day or another--after a long and
wondrous period--both were agreed, must come. But, consoling herself
with the thought that she would be prepared, she had always set the day
on so distant an horizon that it had no terrors for her. Now it suddenly
dismayed her, a terror close at hand. Here on this crowded balcony
joyous with lights and gay voices and invaded by all the subtle
invitations of a summer night above the water! Oh no, it was not
possible!

Luttrell put his hand to his breast pocket and Stella watched and
listened now with all her soul. More than once during dinner she had
seen him touch that pocket in an abstraction. He drew from it two
papers, one the cablegram which he had received from Cairo, the other
Hardiman's reply. He handed her the first of the two.

"This reached me this morning."

Stella Croyle studied the paper with her heart in her mouth. But the
letters would not be still.

"Oh, what does it mean?" she cried.

"It offers me service abroad."

Stella's face flushed and turned white. She bent her head over the