‘And how can I make thee comfortable, Geometrus?’ laughed Mercia gaily. ‘Better take a nerve-soothing tabloid instead of supper, I’ll warrant that will give thy mind more rest than anything that I can tell thee.’ ‘Perhaps it might,’ answered he gloomily. ‘All the same, I would prefer a hearing if thou wilt grant the favour.’ ‘Certainly,’ she answered with an assumed airiness of manner, for she guessed she was about to go through a bad quarter of an hour, ‘now be reasonable, and I will give this matter my best attention,’ she added. ‘I know I am trespassing upon thy time at an awkward moment,’ he went on to say with a certain bitterness in his voice, ‘but for all that we will have it out now. What is the meaning of this fortune-telling fellow hanging round thee? What does he want dangling after thee?’ ‘That is my business,’ answered Mercia, suddenly freezing in her manner and turning quite haughty, ‘I was not aware that I was answerable to thee in the choice of my friends.’ At this reproof he reddened, and stammered out— ‘I did not mean to put it that way,—but I want to know what is this Swami to thee that he should interest himself so greatly in thy affairs?’ ‘He is my intended husband, Geometrus,’ replied Mercia in a low but firm voice. ‘I mean to give up my post and marry. He is the only man for whom I could make this sacrifice, as I love my profession greatly. But I love Swami better, and intend to share my fortunes with him whatever they be.’ ‘And what is to become of me?’ inquired Geometrus while his face turned deathly white; ‘I thought the phonograph said thou didst love me. What am I to think? Was it Swami that filled thy thought when Felicitas asked the same question?’ ‘Of course not,’ rejoined Mercia candidly, ‘I was unacquainted with him when the Emperor sought me. But I will endeavour to explain it; otherwise thou mightest arrive at false conclusions. ‘I formed a sincere regard for thee, Geometrus, in the course of these five years that we have worked together; and this regard, owing partly to thy devotion to me, and partly from a sense of loneliness, the result of my necessarily solitary mode of life, grew into such a tender affection that I imagined it was what people call love. Consequently, the notion came into my head that at some time or other—some day in the distant future, I would marry thee if such continued to be thy desire. But now all those ideas have been dissipated; my heart has gone through a complete revolution, for I have met with the man for whom I would willingly give up everything. ‘I love him better than all the stars in the wide universe! Much as I delighted to gaze into the Heavens and study with intense interest the wonders of the Celestial depths, yet he is above them all! He is more to me than thousands of worlds! He is nearer and dearer than millions of suns!’ cried Mercia with clasped hands, and eyes alight with warm enthusiasm.