Still, there was no sign of discouragement in the voices or the faces--it may be said, in the souls--of the man and woman who sat there talking across a table. He was as full of hope as ever he was, and she as full of faith. They were an interesting couple to look upon. He, dark, a little hollow in the cheeks, a slight line or two of anxiety in the forehead, a handsome, well-cut mouth, without beard, and a frame somewhat spare but strong; a man of graceful but unaffected action, dressed in a riding-coat, breeches, and leather leggings. She, her cheeks colored with earnest purpose, her gray eyes rather larger than usual as she looked up from the paper where she had been calculating, was dressed in the simple artistic fashion of the day. The falling folds of the semi-clinging fabrics accommodated themselves well to a figure which even at that moment of rest suggested latent energy and activity. “If we have to wait for the Artesian ray,” she said, “we must try to carry out something else. People are watching us, talking of us, expecting something of us; we must give them something. Now the question is, what shall that be?” “The way I look at it is this,” said her companion. “For a long time you have been watching and waiting and expecting something, and it is time that I should give you something; now the question is--” “Not at all,” said she, interrupting. “You arrogate too much to yourself. I don't expect you to give anything to me. We are working together, and it is both of us who must give this poor old world something to satisfy it for a while, until we can disclose to it that grand discovery, grander than anything that it has ever even imagined. I want to go on talking about it, but I shall not do it; we must keep our minds tied down to some present purpose. Now, Mr. Clewe, what is there that we can take up and carry on immediately? Can it be the great shell?” Clewe shook his head. “No,” said he; “that is progressing admirably, but many things are necessary before we can experiment with it.” “Since you were away,” said she, “I have often been down to the works to look at it, but everything about it seems to go so slowly. However, I suppose it will go fast enough when it is finished.” “Yes,” said he. “I hope it will go fast enough to overturn the artillery of the world; but, as you say, don't let us talk about the things for which we must wait. I will carefully consider everything that is in operation, and to-morrow I will suggest something with which we can go on.” “After all,” said she, as they stood together before parting, “I cannot take my mind from the Artesian ray.” “Nor can I,” he answered; “but for the present we must put our hands to work at something else.”