this second Sunday he esteemed his fortune less good, for she had three
or four other visitors. But there were three or four compensations;
perhaps the greatest of which was that, learning how her father had after
all, at the last hour, gone out of town alone, the bold conjecture I just
now spoke of found itself becoming a shade more bold. And then her
presence was her presence, and the personal red room was there and was
full of it, whatever phantoms passed and vanished, emitting
incomprehensible sounds. Lastly, he had the resource of staying till
every one had come and gone and of believing this grateful to her, though
she gave no particular sign. When they were alone together he came to
his point. "But St. George did come--last Sunday. I saw him as I looked
back."

"Yes; but it was the last time."

"The last time?"

"He said he would never come again."

Paul Overt stared. "Does he mean he wishes to cease to see you?"

"I don't know what he means," the girl bravely smiled. "He won't at any
rate see me here."

"And pray why not?"

"I haven't the least idea," said Marian Fancourt, whose visitor found her
more perversely sublime than ever yet as she professed this clear
helplessness.