face, while the faintest smile played round his well-cut mouth.

"A number of things can happen in four months. Are you looking
forward to your life as the wife of a priest--but I understand it
is different in England to in my country--there I could not
recommend the situation to you."

Stella found absolutely no answer to this. She only felt a sudden,
wild longing to cry out that the idea of being a curate's wife--
even the Bishop's junior young gentleman with eight hundred a year
of his own--had never appeared a thrilling picture, and was now
causing her a feeling of loathing. She thought she ought to talk
no longer to this stranger, and half rose from her seat.

He put out a protesting hand, both had been clasped idly over the
Times until then without a movement.

"No--do--not go--I have disturbed you--I am sorry," he pleaded.
"Listen, there is a great reception at your Embassy to-morrow
night--for one of our Royal Family who is here. You will go,
perhaps. If so, I will do so also, although I dislike parties--and
there I will be presented to you with ceremony--it will appease
that English convention in you, and after that I shall say to you
a number of things--but I prefer to sit here and speak behind the
Times."

At this instant he raised the paper, and appeared again the
stranger almost entirely hidden from view. And Stella saw that her
Uncle Erasmus was rapidly approaching her with an envelope in his
hand. She seized her pen again and continued her broken sentence