Of course through Zell's unrestrained chatter the recently made plans soon came out. Adroit Mr. Van Dam turned to Zell with an expression of much pleased surprise, exclaiming: "How fortunate I am! I had completed my plans to go abroad some little time since." Zell clapped her hands with delight, but an involuntary shadow darkened. Edith's face. Gus looked nonplussed. He knew that his father and mother with difficulty kept pace with his home expenses and that a Continental tour was impossible for him. Mr. Goulden looked a little thoughtful, as if a new element had entered into the problem. "Oh, come," laughed Zell. "Let us all be good, and go on a pilgrimage together to Paris--I mean Jerusalem." "I will worship devoutly with you at either shrine," said Mr. Van Dam. "And with equal sincerity, I suppose," said Edith, rather coldly. "I sadly fear, Miss Edith, that my sincerity will not be superior to that of the other devotees," was the keen retort, in blandest tones. Edith bit her lip, but said gayly, "Count me out of your pilgrim band. I want no shrine with relics of the past. I wish no incense rising about me obscuring the view. I like the present, and wish to see what is beyond." "But suppose you are both shrine and divinity yourself?" said Gus, with what he meant for a killing look. "Do you mean that compliment for me?" asked Edith, all sweetness. Between wine and love Gus was inclined to be sentimental, and so in a low, meaning tone answered: "Who more deserving?" Edith's eyes twinkled a moment, but with a half sigh she replied: "I fear you read my character rightly. A shrine suggests many offerings, and a divinity many worshippers." Zell laughed outright, and said, "In that respect all women would be shrines and divinities if they could." Van Dam and Goulden could not suppress a smile at the unfortunate issue of Elliot's sentiment, while the latter glanced keenly to see how much truth was hinted in the badinage. "For my part," said Laura, looking fixedly at nothing, "I would rather have one true devotee than a thousand pilgrims who were _gushing_ at every shrine they met." "Brava!" cried Mr. Goulden. "That was the keenest arrow yet flown;" for the other two men were notorious flirts. "I do not think so. Its point was much too broad," said Zell, with a meaning look at Mr. Goulden, that brought a faint color into his imperturbable face, and an angry flush to Laura's. A disconcerted manner had shown that even Gus's vanity had not been impervious to Edith's barb, but he had now recovered himself, and ventured again: "I would have my divinity a patron saint sufficiently human to pity human weakness, and so come at last to listen to no other prayer than mine." "Surely, Mr. Elliot, you would wish your saint to listen for some other reason than your weakness only," said Edith. "Come, ladies and gentlemen, I move this party breaks up, or some one will get hurt," said Gus, with a half-vexed laugh.