Severne's face turned as blank as a doll's, and he said nothing, one way or other. It was settled that they should all meet at the Kursaal at four, to dine and play. But Zoe and her party would go on ahead by the one-o'clock train; and so she retired to put on her bonnet--a technical expression, which implies a good deal. Fanny went with her, and, as events more exciting than the usual routine of their young lives were ahead, their tongues went a rare pace. But the only thing worth presenting to the reader came at the end, after the said business of the toilet had been dispatched. Zoe said, “I must go now, or I shall keep them waiting.” “Only one, dear,” said Fanny dryly. “Why only one?” “Mr. Severne will not go.” “That he will: I made a point of it.” “You did, dear? but still he will not go.” There was something in this, and in Fanny's tone, that startled Zoe, and puzzled her sorely. She turned round upon her with flashing eye, and said, “No mysteries, please, dear. Why won't he go with me wherever I ask him to go? or, rather, what makes you think he won't?” Said Fanny, thoughtfully: “I could not tell you, all in a moment, why I feel so positive. One puts little things together that are nothing apart: one observes faces; I do, at least. You don't seem, to me, to be so quick at that as most girls. But, Zoe dear, you know very well one often knows a thing for certain, yet one doesn't know exactly what makes one know it.” Now Zoe's _amour propre_ was wounded by Fanny's suggestion that Severne would not go to Homburg, or, indeed, to the world's end with her; so she drew herself up in her grand way, and folded her arms and said, a little haughtily, “Then tell me what is it you know about _him_ and me, without knowing how on earth you know it.” The supercilious tone and grand manner nettled Fanny, and it wasn't “brooch day;” she stood up to her lofty cousin like a little game-cock. “I know this,” said she, with heightened cheek, and flashing eyes and a voice of steel, “you will never get Mr. Edward Severne into one room with Zoe Vizard and Ina Klosking.” Zoe Vizard turned very pale, but her eyes flashed defiance on her friend. “That I'll know!” said she, in a deep voice, with a little gasp, but a world of pride and resolution. CHAPTER VII. THE ladies went down together, and found Vizard ready. Mr. Severne was not in the room. Zoe inquired after him. “Gone to get a sun-shade,” said Vizard. “There!” said Zoe to Fanny, in a triumphant whisper. “What is that for but to go with us?” Fanny made no reply. They waited some time for Severne and his sun-shade. At last Vizard looked at his watch, and said they had only five minutes to spare. “Come down, and look after him. He _must_ be somewhere about.” They went down and looked for him all over the Platz. He was not to be seen. At last Vizard took out his watch, and said, “It is some misunderstanding: we can't wait any longer.”