probably hold to the bargain which he has made."

"I don't care whether he does or not," cried Lucy, who had a fine
color and a certain amount of fire in her eyes. "I am not going
to be bought and sold to forward these nasty scientific schemes.
My father can say what he likes and do what he likes, but I marry
you--to-morrow if you like."

"That's just it," said Archie, flushing, "we can't marry."

"Why?" she asked, much astonished.

Hope looked at the ground and drew patterns with his cane-point
in the sand. They were seated in the hot sunshine--for the
Indian summer still continued--under a moldering brick wall,
which ran around the most delightful of kitchen gardens. This
was situated at the back of the Pyramids, and contained a
multiplicity of pot herbs and fruit trees and vegetables. It
resembled the Fairy Garden in Madame D'Alnoy's story of The White
Cat, and in the autumn yielded a plentiful crop of fine-flavored
fruit. But now the trees were bare and the garden looked
somewhat forlorn for lack of greenery. But in spite of the
lateness of the season, Lucy often brought a book to read under
the glowing wall, and there ripened like a peach in the warm
sunshine. On this occasion she brought Archie into the old-world
garden, as he had hinted at confidences. And the time had come
to speak plainly, as Hope began to think that he had not treated
Lucy quite fairly in hiding from her his momentarily embarrassed
position.