Where had he been, and what had he been doing? and was he in those eccentric but charming rooms of his in the Temple still? and how was his friend Leonard Dagle? He was full of questions, questions which Jack answered in his curt, brief fashion. And all the while Stephen was weighing the situation, realizing all its danger and peril, and determining on a course of action. "Just one more cup, Miss Rolfe, if you please. Tea is my favorite beverage--I am quite an old washerwoman!" Then he took his cup, and sat down beside her. "Yes," he said, not in a particularly low tone, but in his softest manner--"yes, I am glad to see that your health has not suffered in London. I trust you have been happy?" Una looked up with a faint flush on her face. "I have been--I am very, very happy," she said, and Jack's face flushed too with the delight at the accent on "I am." "That is right," said Stephen, with the air of an old, old friend, "and I hope my mother has found some amusement for you--that she has shown you something of the great world." "Yes," said Una, and she glanced at Mrs. Davenant, from whose pale face all traces of the calm serenity which had reigned there during the earlier part of the evening had entirely fled--"yes, I have been very gay--is not that the word? I have been to a ball, and to a picnic, and have seen all the sights." "And where was the ball?" "At Lady Earlsley's," said Una. Stephen opened his eyes and smiled. "My dear Miss Rolfe, you have penetrated the most exclusive of social rings! Lady Earlsley's! Come, that is very satisfactory; and Jack--Jack is my cousin--well, very nearly cousin, you know, I hope he has made himself useful and agreeable?" Una glanced shyly and gravely at Jack--a glance that told everything, even if Stephen had not seen her in Jack's arms. "Yes," she said, in a low voice, "Mr. Newcombe has been very--kind." Stephen smiled and showed all his teeth. "I am afraid there will be nothing left for me to do," he said. Then, in a lower voice, he added: "You will be glad to hear that I have news of your father." Una looked up breathlessly. The question had been hovering on her lips. Stephen nodded. "Yes, he wrote me from a place in Surrey called--tut--tut! The name has escaped me! They are quite well, and send their fondest love." Una's eyes filled. "Why did they leave the cottage so suddenly?" she said. "Because your father wished for a change. I told you truth, you see, when I said that your departure would be good for him, and wean him from his seclusion." "Why does he not come to see me?" asked Una. "He is coming, my dear Una," said Stephen. "But at present he is very much engaged, and quite satisfied with my favorable report of your health and happiness. But come, I must not make you homesick. Were you not playing when I came in?" Una flushed. "Jack--Mr. Newcombe--was playing," she said; "I was singing."