It was hard, very hard. Other men had paid her court before and since his advent. They had accepted their dismissals calmly, carelessly, irritably, sullenly, according to their several temperaments; in no case had serious results followed. They had mended their damaged or disturbed organs by philosophy, travel, gaiety, or marriage, chiefly affecting the latter anodyne. It was surely one of the ironies of Fate that the consequences to this particular _pretendu_ had been so serious--the only one as to whose denial she had felt suspicion of her heart's teaching in the ordeal. Now, at least, all was over. She had decreed that he should have no further part or lot in her life. If he was safe, Fate might do her worst. She had always claimed the right to mould her own existence. Surely she could do so still. Yet she sighed as she told herself thus proudly that she was sufficient for her own high conception of duty. As to happiness, that was another thing. Who were we, worms of the dust, ephemera of the hour, that we should arrogate to ourselves the right to a condition of perfect satisfaction? Harmony with our surroundings, always improbable, was chiefly impossible. The stars in their courses, as well as all the powers of darkness, were leagued to prevent it. And yet--and yet----Here the introspective reverie ceased, and Hypatia recalled herself to the more urgent and practical demands of daily life. * * * * * On the following morning Mr. Summers appeared at breakfast in an unwonted state of excitement, almost of agitation. "What is the matter, my dear Cyril," inquired the anxious wife. "Is the war news worse than usual?" "Not quite so bad as that," he said, with a reassuring smile, "but important, notwithstanding. I have just heard that the bishop is coming to pay us a visit, and will stay all night on his way to Tauranga." "How did you hear? You quite frightened me. I shall be charmed to have him. Hypatia will be overjoyed, I know. He is one of her heroes." "A Maori messenger gave me this note," he replied, producing a twisted and discoloured piece of paper, on which was written-- "MY DEAR CYRIL, "I propose, with God's blessing, to be with you on Tuesday at midday. If Mrs. Summers can accommodate me, I should like to remain with you for one night. Will hold service in afternoon. Assemble the people--it may be for the last time. "G. A. NEW ZEALAND." "And when does he say that we may expect him?" asked Hypatia. "At or before midday," replied Mr. Summers. "Of course, he will only remain for the night, as he is anxious to push on to Tauranga. But he would like to hold an afternoon service; so I must get in all our people in the neighbourhood, and, of course, the school-children."