r, I mean, we mustn't be unpractical now that we've
come to facts. It is too sudden, surely."

"Who knows!"

"But, Margaret, dear--"

"I'll go for her other letters," said Margaret. "No, I won't, I'll
finish my breakfast. In fact, I haven't them. We met the Wilcoxes on an
awful expedition that we made from Heidelberg to Speyer. Helen and I
had got it into our heads that there was a grand old cathedral at
Speyer--the Archbishop of Speyer was one of the seven electors--you
know--'Speyer, Maintz, and Koln.' Those three sees once commanded the
Rhine Valley and got it the name of Priest Street."

"I still feel quite uneasy about this business, Margaret."

"The train crossed by a bridge of boats, and at first sight it looked
quite fine. But oh, in five minutes we had seen the whole thing. The
cathedral had been ruined, absolutely ruined, by restoration; not an
inch left of the original structure. We wasted a whole day, and came
across the Wilcoxes as we were eating our sandwiches in the public
gardens. They too, poor things, had been taken in--they were actually
stopping at Speyer--and they rather liked Helen's insisting that they
must fly with us to Heidelberg. As a matter of fact, they did come on
next day. We all took some drives together. They knew us well enough to
ask Helen to come and see them--at least, I was asked too, but Tibby's
illness prevented me, so last Monday she went alone. That's all. You
know as much as I do now. It's a young man out of the unknown. She was
to have come back Saturday, but put off till Monday, perhaps on account
of--I don't know."

She broke off, and listened to the sounds of a London morning. Their
house was in Wickham Place, and fairly quiet, for a lofty promontory of
buildings separated it from the main thoroughfare. One had the sense of
a backwater, or rather of an estuary, whose waters flowed in from the
invisible sea, and ebbed into a profound silence while the waves without
were still beating. Though the promontory consisted of flats--expensive,
with cavernous entrance halls, full of concierges and palms--it
fulfilled its purpose, and gained for the older houses opposite a
certain measure of peace.

These, too, would be swept away in time, and another promontory would
arise upon their site, as humanity piled itself higher and higher on the
precious soil of London.

Mrs. Munt had her own method of interpreting her nieces. She decided
that Margaret was a little hysterical, an