Upon the table still stood the portrait of my dear heart, the picture which only two days before had awakened within me such bitter remembrances. The silk-shaded lamps shed a soft light over everything, illuminating for the first time my Ella's beautiful face. In the twilight by the river I had seen that she had become even more beautiful, yet the light that now fell upon her revealed a calmness and sweetness of expression that I had not hitherto been able to distinguish. She was far more lovely than I had believed--more beautiful even than in those days of our secret love. Those great blue eyes looked out upon me with that same love-flame as of old--eyes that were clear and bright as a child's, the glance of which would have made any man's head reel--cheeks that were more delicately moulded than the marbles of Michael Angelo, and a grace that was perfect, complete, adorable. And she was mine--still my own! Strange that this sudden happiness was actually the sequel of a tragedy! "It is really delightful to be back here again," she remarked to Lucie, glancing round the room. "How well I remember the old days when, in the holidays, I came and stayed with you. Nothing has changed. The dear old place is just the same." "Yes," replied Lucie. "I only wish we lived here more. But father and I are always abroad--always moving from place to place through France, Germany, Spain, Italy, just as the fit takes us. Nowadays, dear old dad is really like the Jew-errant. He can't remain more than a few days in one place--can you, dad?" she asked, laughing across at him. "No, my dear," was his response in a strange voice. "I must travel-- travel--always travel. To keep moving is part of my nature, I believe." "Only fancy! he's here in England!" she remarked to Ella. "It's really wonderful!" While this conversation was in progress I was afraid that old Miss Miller might refer to my call upon her; but fortunately she either did not catch my name when introduced, or did not connect me with her mysterious visitor. The owner of Studland Manor was, I saw, somewhat uneasy when his daughter began to explain how constantly they travelled. He seemed a little annoyed that Lucie should tell us that they were constantly moving, instead of living quietly by the Mediterranean outside Leghorn, as he would have me believe. The old-fashioned Empire clock beneath its glass shade, standing on the chimney-piece, struck eleven, and I rose resolutely to take my leave. I had expressed pleasure at my new-found happiness, shook hands all round, and asked leave to call on the morrow.