"Very." He now plucked at the whiskers uneasily. "Oh yes, very." Barbara smiled and turned her attention to the book, as though she could spare no more time. Mr. Musselwhite, dimly feeling that this topic demanded no further treatment, racked his brains for something else to say. He was far towards Lincolnshire when a rustle of the pages under Barbara's finger gave him a happy inspiration. "I don't know whether you would care to see English papers now and then, Miss Denyer? I always have quite a number. The _Field_, for instance, and--" "You are very kind, I don't read much English, but I shall be glad to see anything you like to bring me." Mrs. Denyer was not wholly without consolation in her troubles about Clifford Marsh. On the following morning, as she and her daughters were going out, they came face to face with a gentleman who was announcing to the servant his wish to see Miss Doran. Naturally they all glanced at him. Would he be admitted? With much presence of mind, Madeline exclaimed,-- "Oh dear, mamma! I have forgotten that letter. Please wait for me; I won't be a minute." And she disappeared, the others moving out on to the staircase. When Madeline rejoined them, it was with the intelligence that the visitor _had_ been admitted. "Who can he be?" "Rather a strange-looking person." "Miss Doran cannot be ill. She has no brother. What an odd thing!" They walked on, close serried, murmuring to each other discreetly.... For several minutes there had been perfect stillness in the room, a hush after the music of low, impassioned voices. It was broken, yet scarcely broken, by the sound of lips touching lips--touching to part sweetly, touching again to part more slowly, more sweetly still. "They will not influence you against me?" "Never! never!" "They will try, Cecily. You will hear endless things to my disadvantage--things that I cannot contradict if you ask me." "I care for nothing, Reuben. I am yours for ever and ever, hear what I may, happen what may!" "Don't call me by my hateful name, dearest. We will find some other, if I must have a name for you." "Why, that is like Romeo!" "So it is; I wish I had no worse than Romeo's reason. I had rather have had the vulgarest Anglo-Saxon name than this Jewish one. Happily, I need have no fear in telling you that; _you_ are no Puritan." "As little as a girl could be." She laughed in her happiness. "Have you the same dislike for your sister's name?" "Just the same. I believe it partly explains her life." "She will not be against us, though?" "Neither for nor against, I am afraid. Yet I have to thank her for the meeting with you at Pompeii. Why haven't you asked me how I came there?" "I never thought to ask. It seemed so natural. I longed for you, and you stood before me. I could almost believe that my longing had power to bring you, so strong it was. But tell me." He did so, and again they lost themselves in rapturous dreamland.