mind, be a sufficient reason for disallowing it. I'll keep my
word.'

Mr. Torkingham rose to leave. After she had held out her hand to
him, when he had crossed the room, and was within two steps of the
door, she said, 'Mr. Torkingham.' He stopped. 'What I have told
you is only the least part of what I sent for you to tell you.'

Mr. Torkingham walked back to her side. 'What is the rest of it,
then?' he asked, with grave surprise.

'It is a true revelation, as far as it goes; but there is something
more. I have received this letter, and I wanted to say--something.'

'Then say it now, my dear lady.'

'No,' she answered, with a look of utter inability. 'I cannot speak
of it now! Some other time. Don't stay. Please consider this
conversation as private. Good-night.'



IV

It was a bright starlight night, a week or ten days later. There
had been several such nights since the occasion of Lady
Constantine's promise to Swithin St. Cleeve to come and study
astronomical phenomena on the Rings-Hill column; but she had not
gone there. This evening she sat at a window, the blind of which
had not been drawn down. Her elbow rested on a little table, and