She was thinking so deeply, that she did not hear the opening of the door,
or her fellow-traveller's light footstep as he crossed the room. He was
standing on the opposite side of the fireplace, looking down at her, before
she was aware of his presence. Then she raised her head with a start; and
he saw her blush for the first time. "You must have been absorbed in some
profound meditation, Miss Lovel," he said lightly.

"I was thinking of the future."

"Meaning your own future. Why, at your age the future ought to be a most
radiant vision."

"Indeed it is not that. It is all clouds and darkness. I do not see that
one must needs be happy because one is young. There has been very little
happiness in my life yet awhile, only the dreary monotonous routine of
boarding-school."

"But all that is over now, and life is just beginning for you. I wish I
were eighteen instead of eight-and-twenty."

"Would you live your life over again?"

The traveller laughed.

"That's putting a home question," he said. "Well, perhaps not exactly the
same life, though it has not been a bad one. But I should like the feeling
of perfect youth, the sense of having one's full inheritance of life lying
at one's banker's, as it were, and being able to draw upon the account a
little recklessly, indifferent as to the waste of a year or two. You see