Kenelm, in this respect one of the modestest of human beings, shook
his head doubtingly, and was about to reply in self-disparagement,
when, lifting his eyes and looking round, he halted mute and still as
if rooted to the spot. They had entered the trellised circle through
the roses of which he had first caught sight of the young face that
had haunted him ever since.

"Ah!" he said abruptly; "I cannot stay longer here, dreaming away the
work-day hours in a fairy ring. I am going to town to-day by the next
train."

"Yoa are coming back?"

"Of course,--this evening. I left no address at my lodgings in
London. There must be a large accumulation of letters; some, no
doubt, from my father and mother. I am only going for them. Good-by.
How kindly you have listened to me!"

"Shall we fix a day next week for seeing the remains of the old Roman
villa? I will ask Mrs. Cameron and her niece to be of the party."

"Any day you please," said Kenelm joyfully.



CHAPTER XV.

KENELM did indeed find a huge pile of letters and notes on reaching
his forsaken apartment in Mayfair; many of them merely invitations for