'Quite the contrary,' returned Mrs. Amidon, smiling composedly. 'Only we have been discovering that we knew each other long ago, and that I have lost the wager we made as to which of us would be married first. I will pay it now,' she added, taking a white rosebud from the vase on the table. She went up to Geoffrey and slipped it into the button-hole of his coat. As she did so, she murmured below her breath, with a glance into his eyes: 'Before this fades----!' And then Geoffrey, with a very brief adieu, went out. There can be little doubt that, when Ellice did that, and said those words, she was resolved to meet Geoffrey in the Lansdowne drawing-room, between nine and eleven o'clock; and at all events she could not endure to be left in an awkward or unpicturesque situation. But unfortunately it was then only six in the afternoon; three hours in which to wait, to reconsider, to doubt. It would be doing her injustice to say that there was not a struggle. The struggle was even carried to such a pitch that, at half-past nine, a hansom cab drove up to the corner of the street below the Lansdowne Hotel, and a lady got out of it, veiled, with a satchel in her hand. She paid the cabman, and then walked along towards the hotel. The broad bay window of the drawing-room abutted upon the sidewalk; a street lamp stood on the opposite side of the road. As the lady passed the window she glanced up, and saw a man seated there with a newspaper, which he was not reading, in his hand. Her knees trembled, but she said to herself: 'If he looks out and recognises me, I will go to him.' Even then he turned, slowly, and looked out; she stood still, unable to move. He must have seen her; but he did not recognise her; after a moment he turned away. Then she faced about, and ran back along the sidewalk, with what feelings in her heart who can tell? The hansom had not yet gone from the place where she left it; and she was driven back to her house in Mayfair, where she was to receive some distinguished guests. II.