is surrounded on all sides by walls and overshadowed by a hood of woven wicker-work. When Lalage sat down I could see no more of her than the glowing end of her cigarette and the toes of her shoes. Hilda was to the same extent invisible. I was annoyed by this at first, for Lalage is very pretty to look at and the night was not so dark when we sat down but that I could, had she been in any ordinary chair, have traced the outline of her figure. Later on, when our conversation reached its most interesting point, I was thankful to recollect that I also was in obscurity. I am not, owing to my training as a diplomatist, an easy man to startle, but Lalage gave me a severe shock. I prefer to keep my face in the shadow when I am moved to unexpected emotion. “To-morrow,” I said pleasantly, by way of opening the conversation, “we shall have another long day’s sight-seeing, mitigated with ices.” “I’m sorry to say,” said Lalage, “that we go home to-morrow. The steamer sails at 11 a.m.” “Surely there can be no real need for such hurry. Now that we have Miss Battersby among us the Archdeacon and Hilda’s mother will be quite satisfied.” “It’s not that in the least,” said Lalage. “Is it, Hilda?” Hilda said something about return tickets, but Lalage snubbed her. I gathered that there was reason for precipitancy more serious than the by-laws of the steamboat company. “I am confident,” I said, “that Selby-Harrison is capable of carrying on the work of exterminating bishops.” “It’s not that either,” said Lalage. “The fact is that we have come to Lisbon on business, not for pleasure. You’ve probably guessed that already.” “I feared it. Of the two reasons you gave me this morning for coming here----” “I haven’t told you any reason yet,” said Lalage. “Excuse me, but when we first met this morning you said distinctly that you had come to see me. I hardly flattered myself that could really be true.” “It was,” said Lalage. “Quite true.” “It’s very kind of you to say so and of course I quite believe you, but then you afterward gave me to understand that your real object was to work up the emotion caused by the appearance of a dead king with a view to utilizing it to add intensity to a prize poem. That, of course, is business of a very serious kind. That’s why I meant to say a minute ago that of the two reasons you gave me for coming here the second was the more urgent.” “Don’t ramble in that way,” said Lalage. “It wastes time. Hilda, explain the scheme which we have in mind at present.” Hilda threw away the greater part of a cigarette and sat up in her beehive. I do not think that Hilda enjoys smoking cigarettes. She probably does it to impress the public with the genuine devotion to principle of the A.T.R.S. “The society,” said Hilda “has met with difficulties. Its objects----” “He knows the objects,” said Lalage. “Don’t you?” “To expose in the public press----” I began. “That’s just where we’re stuck,” said Lalage.