Vestalia reflected. It was evident enough that the question honestly puzzled her. “All I can think of,” she replied, after consideration, “is that your father had taken it for granted that this gentleman was my husband--and when it came out in our interview that he wasn’t then your father questioned me very closely about him, and it happened that it was a subject upon which I couldn’t very well tell him much, and I daresay he formed an unfavourable opinion of Mr. Mosscrop on that account. That is the only explanation I can think of. I know he said he thought it would be well for me not to see him again, or even hold communication with him--but I did write him a letter that very day all the same.” It was Adele’s turn to ponder. “But why,” she began, hesitatingly, “why should papa take it upon himself to tell you what to do and not to do? What business is it of his? And, if he disliked the thing, why should he remain friendly to you, and snub the gentleman you call Mr. Mosscrop? Not that he minded it, or that it amounted to anything, but it puzzles me that papa should behave in that curious fashion.” “Yes, it would have been more natural to show the woman the cold shoulder, and think nothing amiss of the man,” assented Vestalia, gravely. “I quite agree with you there.” “Well, that _is_ the way of the world, isn’t it?” put in Adele, in apologetic tones. “Don’t dream that I suggest anything wrong.” “Oh no,” said the other patiently, but with a note of weariness in her voice. “It doesn’t matter, one way or the other.” “You love him, then?” Adele’s black eyes glowed with a sudden kindly warmth which went to Vestalia’s heart. “Oh, how can I tell you?” she faltered. “It is all so stupid--and I am so unhappy? He was goodness itself to me, and he must think that I behaved like a brute--a common girl of the streets--or meaner still, for at least it’s said they have _some_ sense of gratitude. He came like Providence itself to help me, when I was absolutely starving and turned out of doors like a dog--and I _was_ grateful, and yet here he must be thinking that I’m the very scum of the earth!” She gazed at her companion out of swimming eyes, and for answer Adele kissed her. “I will go now,” she stammered, hastily, as if the caress had further unnerved her. “I’ve stayed longer than I meant. Yes, I will come again--if you tell your father that I’ve been, and he says I may come.” “I’d like to see him say anything else!” cried the young lady from Paris, Kentucky. “The idea!” And when the door had closed upon Vestalia, this dark beauty clenched her hands, and strode indignantly about the room, and repeated between set teeth, “The very idea!” CHAPTER XI Vestalia paused at the street entrance of the hotel, and looked doubtfully up the hill toward the shifting outline of the strident, crowded Strand.