t which crowns all other illusions whereof
life is made. The man must prove it, or he is born in vain.

At sunrise, Piers dressed himself, and made ready for his journey. He
was worn with fever, had no more strength to hope or to desire. His
body was a mechanism which must move and move.

CHAPTER XV

In the saloon of a homeward-bound steamer, twenty-four hours from port,
and that port Southampton, a lady sat writing letters. Her age was
about thirty; her face was rather piquant than pretty; she had the air
of a person far too intelligent and spirited to be involved in any life
of mere routine, on whatever plane. Two letters she had written in
French, one in German, and that upon which she was now engaged was in
English, her native tongue; it began "Dearest Mother."

"All's well. A pleasant and a quick voyage. The one incident of it
which you will care to hear about is that I have made friends--a real
friendship, I think--with a delightful girl, of respectability which
will satisfy even you. Judge for yourself; she is the daughter of Dr.
Derwent, a distinguished scientific man, who has been having a glimpse
of Colonial life. When we were a day or two out I found that Miss
Derwent was the object of special interest; she and her father had been
the guests of no less a personage than Trafford Romaine, and it was
reported that the great man had offered her marriage! Who started the
rumour I don't know, but it is quite true that Romaine _did_ propose to
her--and was refused! I am assured of it by a friend of theirs on
board, Mr. Arnold Jacks, an intimate friend of Romaine; but he declared
that he did not start the story, and was surprised to find it known.
Miss Derwent herself? No, my dear cynical mamma! She isn't that sort.
She likes me as much as I like her, I think, but in all our talk not a
word from her about the great topic of curiosity. It is just possible,
I fear, that she means to marry Mr. Arnold Jacks, who, by the bye, is a
son of a Member of Parliament, and rather an interesting man, but, I am
quite sure, not the man for _her_. If she will come down into Hampshire
with me may I bring her? It would so rejoice your dear soul to be
assured that I have made such a friend, after what you are pleased to
call my riff-raff foreign intimacies."

A few words more of affectionate banter, and she signed herself "Helen
M. Borisoff."

As she was addressing the envelope, the sound of a book thrown on to
the table ju