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Jack is laughing over a letter written by one of the fellows in India; all are deep in their own correspondence. It is a command. With a last lingering glance at the woman who has enthralled him, he steps out through the window on to the balcony, and in another moment is lost to sight. "Dear Lady Rodney," she says, in a tremulous tone, "are you quite sure the note was from that—that man?".

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"Keep your kiss," exclaims he, savagely, "since it cost you such an effort to give it, and keep the parchment too. It is yours because of my love for you." says Mr. Rodney, airing his bit of Dryden with conscious pride, in that it fits in so nicely. "At all events, you can't call it, "Of course you must come here," says Lady Rodney, who is afraid of the county and what it will say if it discovers she is at loggerheads with her son and his bride. But there is no welcome in her tone. And Geoffrey, greatly discouraged, yet determined to part friends with her for Mona's sake,—and trusting to the latter's sweetness to make all things straight in the future,—after a few more desultory remarks takes his departure, with the understanding on both sides that he and his wife are to come to the Towers on the Friday following to take up their quarters there until Leighton Hall is ready to receive them. "Where is your home?" asked the bear. "Why are you travelling so far alone?".