her peach-like cheek against his whiskered cheek. "Don't say those
dreadful things, I have not deceived anybody, I have known Count
Roumovski since the day after we came to Rome, and--and--I love
him very much, and you know I always thought Eustace a bore, and
you must agree it is wicked to marry and not to love, so it must
be good to, oh!--well, to marry the person you do love. What have
you to say against it?"

Canon Ebley tried to unclasp her arms from round his neck. He was
terribly upset. To be sure, the girl was very dear to him, and had
always been so sweet a niece, a truthful, obedient child from
early infancy. Caroline had perhaps been a little hard--he had
better hear the facts.

"Dear me, dear me," he blurted out. "Well, well, tell me
everything about the case, and, though I cannot consent to
anything, I must do you the justice of hearing your side."

"Won't you sit down here, sir?" Princess Urazov said, "and let my
brother and your niece tell you their story. Mr. Deanwood, we met
at Buda-Pesth two years ago--" and she turned to the young man and
indicated that he should join her in the far window embrasure,
which he did with alacrity, and from there they heard,
interpolated in their personal conversation, scraps of the
arguments going on between the three.

Stella, assisted by her lover, told of her first talk and her
drive, and their rapidly ripening affection for each other, and
the girl looked so happy and so pleading. Then Count Roumovski
took up the thread. He explained his position, and how his view of