Olive Maunders looked at her father in a puzzled manner, then, rising from her seat, walked to and fro hurriedly, with her arms folded behind her back. "I can't make you out, father," she said lightly. "You are so sensible in some things, and in others--well! I really don't know how you can believe in this theosophical rubbish." "'_There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy!_'" quoted Sir John, with a smile. "Oh! I know that quotation," answered his daughter, shaking her head; "it is always quoted by people who believe in the supernatural as an unanswerable argument, and so it is in one sense, but, of course, I did not see enough of Doctor Roversmire to know what his pretensions are, so I can't say a word against him." "You did not like him, Olive?" "No, I certainly did not." "Yet he admired you?" "So much so that he did me the honour to ask me to be his wife," replied Olive, gravely, "but, of course, I am engaged to Adrian. Ah, poor Adrian! I wonder where he can be?" "Wait and hope." "I'm tired of waiting and hoping," said the girl, petulantly. "There was enough about this affair in the papers already, and I want Adrian to come forward and defend himself from the malicious tongues of busybodies. Philip Trevanna will stand by him." "Well, I'm sure I don't know what to advise," said poor Sir John, helplessly, "unless you ask Doctor Roversmire." "A drowning man will clutch at a straw," observed Olive, after a pause. "I do not believe much in Doctor Roversmire and his relations with the supernatural world, still, if I could see him, I would ask him to use his knowledge for the benefit of Adrian. Do you know where he lives, father?" "At Hampstead, I believe." "Then I will write to him, to-night. Mind you, I don't believe any good will come of it; still, I'm so anxious to find Adrian that I'd consult even a fortune-teller." She spoke in a scoffing tone which appeared to wound her father, and he was about to remonstrate with her upon her levity when a servant entered and gave her a card. Olive glanced carelessly at it and then started in surprise as she handed it to her father, for the name inscribed thereon was that of Dr. Roversmire. "Your prophet of theosophy must certainly have had an intuitive instinct he was wanted," she observed idly. "At all events he could not come at a better time," replied Sir John, with a smile. "Ask Dr. Roversmire to come in." The servant departed, and Olive and her father looked at one another in silence, while from the garden sounded the gay voice of Teddy Rudall singing the last four lines of a ballad. _Lift not thou the future's curtain, Though the present be not gay; Only present hours are certain, Laugh and love and live to-day_. "There's a good deal of philosophy in that," said Sir John sagely. Chapter VIII. The Man She Hated