A low voice answered: "Une lettre pour mademoiselle." And the
epistle was slipped into the little box for letters on the door.
She went back to her wide window and looked out on the darkness
after she had read it. She saw there would be trouble ahead, she
knew Eustace Medlicott's obstinate spirit very well, and also the
rigid convention of Aunt Caroline--but to what lengths they would
go she formulated no guess.

It all seemed so secure and happy and calm now with such a man to
lean upon as Sasha Roumovski. Nothing need ruffle or frighten her
ever any more. And then she read the love sentences again and
thrilled and quivered there in the warm, soft night. Sasha
Roumovski's influence over her had grown so strong that not a
questioning speculation as to the step she meant to take any
longer entered her head. She felt she knew at last what love's
meaning truly was, and nothing else mattered in the world--which,
indeed, was the truth!

Meanwhile, the Reverend Eustace Medlicott, burning with fury, had
stalked to his room, and there tried to think of what he had
better do. He feared it was too late to communicate with Canon and
Mrs. Ebley--they would have retired to bed, and Stella, also. Here
his thoughts were brought up with violent suddenness. Was she
quite safe? Heavens above! and he turned quite cold--foreigners
might be capable of any outrage--but presently he dismissed this
fear. People always locked their doors in hotels, and Stella,
though she had apparently shown herself sadly unworthy of his
regard, was a thoroughly well brought-up young woman, and would
not be likely to bandy words in the night with any young man. But
on the morrow he would insist upon their all leaving the hotel and