is going to try and leave Vienna to-night, and if he does I shall be
at his heels."

She nodded her head thoughtfully.

"I, too," she announced. "I come with you, my friend. I do no
more good here, and they worry my life out all the time. I come to
sing in London at Covent Garden. I have agreements there which only
await my signature. We will go together; is it not so?"

"Very well," he answered, "only remember that my movements must
depend very largely upon Dorward's. The train leaves at eight
o'clock, station time. I have already a coupe reserved."

"I come with you," she murmured. "I am very weary of this city."

They walked on for a few paces in silence. Bellamy looked around
the gardens, brilliant with flowering shrubs and rose trees, with
here and there some delicate piece of statuary half-hidden amongst
the wealth of foliage. The villa had once belonged to a royal
favorite, and the grounds had been its chief glory. They reached
a sheltered seat and sat down. A few yards away a tiny waterfall
came tumbling over the rocks into a deep pool. They were hidden
from the windows of the villa by the boughs of a drooping chestnut
tree. Bellamy stooped and kissed her upon the lips.

"Ours is a strange courtship, Louise," he whispered softly.

She took his hand in hers and smoothed it. She had returned his
kiss, but she drew a little further away from him.