"But when we are alone together, as we are now, let me hear you call me
Mary. That's my Christian name, and I should like to hear you speak it.
Will you remember?"

"Yes"; and then from her lips trembled the name "Mary."

"It sounds very loving and sweet," said the other, and, drawing the girl
closer, for the first time she kissed her.

With the memory of those tender words and the blissful sensation left by
that unexpected kiss, Fan spent the evening alone, hearing, after her
supper, the arrival of visitors, and the sound of conversation and
laughter from the drawing-room, and then music and singing. Later in the
evening the guests went to sup into the dining-room, and there they
stayed playing cards until eleven o'clock or later, when she heard them
leaving the house.

They were not all gone, however; three of Miss Starbrow's intimate
friends still lingered, drinking whisky-and-water and talking. There was
Captain Horton--captain by courtesy, since he was no longer in the army
--a tall, fine-looking man, slightly horsy in his get-up, with a very
large red moustache, reddish-brown hair, and keen blue eyes. He wore a
cut-away coat, and was standing on the hearthrug, his hands thrust into
his trousers pockets, and smiling as he talked to a young clerical
gentleman near him--the Rev. Octavius Brown. The Rev. Octavius was curate
of a neighbouring ritualistic church, but in his life he was not ascetic;
he loved whisky-and-water not wisely but too well, and he was
passionately devoted to the noble game of Napoleon. Mr. Brown had just
won seven shillings, and was in very high spirits; for being poor he had