"I am not," acknowledged Clendon with touching candour; "he wanted me to become a churchman, and I didn't care about it. We had words and parted. Now, however, I've won a success in literature, I'll go back and ask the pater to kill the domestic veal. You I will bring with me to the banquet, and as Miss Pethram lives near you will be able to see her, woo her, wed her, and be happy ever afterwards." Archie made no reply, but smoked furiously; and Toby, having delivered himself of what he had to say, also subsided into silence. After a pause said Maxwell-- "Toby." "Yes." "I'll come." "What about South America?" "D---- South America." CHAPTER III. THE WOMAN WITH THE FIERCE EYES. You are a snake, For the sly beast lies Coiled in the brake Of your sleepy eyes, Lo, at your glances my weak soul dies. Woman you are With a face so fair; But the snake must mar All the woman there. Your eyes affright, but your smiles ensnare. Such a poor room it was, with a well-worn carpet, shabby furniture, a dingy mirror over the fireplace, and a mean sordid look everywhere. The bright sunshine, pouring in through the dirty windows, showed up the weak points of the apartment in the most relentless manner. Great folding-doors at one side half open, showing an untidy bedroom beyond, and on the other side the many-paned windows, veiled by ragged curtains, looked out into Jepple Street, Bloomsbury. There was a shaky round table in the centre of the apartment, on which was spread a doubtfully clean cloth, and on it the remains of a very poor breakfast. An egg half eaten, a teacup half filled, and a portion of bread on the plate showed that the person for whom this meal was provided had not finished, and, indeed, she was leaning on the table with her elbows, looking at a copy of the _Daily Telegraph_. A noticeable woman this, frowning down on the newspaper with tightly closed lips, and one whom it would be unwise to offend.. After a pause she pushed the paper away, arose to her feet, and marching across to the dingy mirror, surveyed herself long and anxiously. The face that looked out at her from the glass was a remarkable one. Dark, very dark, with fierce black eyes under strongly marked eyebrows, masses of rough dark hair carelessly twisted up into a heavy coil, a thin-lipped, flexible mouth and a general contour of face not at all English. She had slender brown hands, which looked powerful in spite of their delicacy, and a good figure, though just now it was concealed by a loose dressing-gown of pale yellow silk much discoloured and stained. With her strange barbaric face, her gaudy dress, Mrs. Belswin was certainly a study for a painter.