“You must excuse me, Mrs. Leith Fairfax. I have distinctly given her my word that I will not intrude upon her again.” “Dont be so foolish.” Douglas’s face clouded. “You are privileged to say so,” he said. “Not at all,” said Mrs. Fairfax, frightened. “But when I think of Marian, I feel like an old woman, and venture to remonstrate with all the presumption of age. I beg your pardon.” He bowed. Then Marian joined them, and Mrs. Fairfax again gave tongue. “Where have you been?” she cried. “You vanished from my side like a sprite. I have been searching for you ever since.” “I have been looking at the pictures, of course. I am so glad you have come back, Sholto. I think you might have made time to pay us a visit before this. You look so strong and well! Your beard is a great improvement. Have you met Nelly?” “I think we saw her at some distance,” said Douglas. “I have not been speaking to her.” “How did you enjoy yourself while you were away?” “As best I could.” “You look as if you had succeeded very fairly. What o’clock is it? Remember that we have to meet Nelly at the turnstiles at six.” “It is five minutes to six now, Miss Lind.” “Thank you, Mr. Douglas. We had better go, I think.” As they left the room, Mrs. Fairfax purposely lingered behind them. “Am I right in concluding that you are as frivolous as ever, Marian?” he said. “Quite,” she replied. “To-day especially so. I am very happy to-day.” “May I ask why?” “Something has happened. I will tell you what it is some day perhaps, but not now. Something that realizes a romantic dream of mine. The dream has been hovering vaguely about me for nearly two years; but I never ventured to teach myself exactly what it was until to-day.” “Realized here? in the Academy?” “It was foreshadowed—promised, at home this morning; but it was realized here.” “Did you know beforehand that I was coming?” “Not until to-day. Mrs. Leith Fairfax said that you would most likely be here.” “And you are happy?” “So much so that I cannot help talking about my happiness to you, who are the very last person—as you will admit when everything is explained—to whom I should unlock my lips on the subject.” “And why? Am I not interested in your happiness?” “I suppose so. I hope so. But when you learn the truth, you will be more astonished than gratified.” “I dare swear that you are mistaken. Is this dream of yours an affair of the heart?” “Now you are beginning to ask questions.” “Well, I will ask no more at present. But if you fear that my long absence has rendered me indifferent in the least degree to your happiness, you do me a great injustice.” “Well, you were not in a very good humor with me when you went away.” “I will forget that if you wish me to.” “I do wish you to forget it. And you forgive me?” “Most assuredly.”