y dear," he said, "I'd have gone with him, if
I hadn't married you, and so I am naturally interested in his outfit.
They wanted me to make a comparative study of the little
semi-independent states down there, and of how far the Italian
government allows them to rule themselves. That's what I was to have
done."

But the Picture hastened to reassure him. "Oh, you mustn't think," she
exclaimed, quickly, "that I mean to keep you at home. I love to travel,
too. I want you to go on exploring places just as you've always done,
only now I will go with you. We might do the Cathedral towns, for
instance."

"The what!" gasped Stuart, raising his head. "Oh, yes, of course," he
added, hurriedly, sinking back into his chair with a slightly bewildered
expression. "That would be very nice. Perhaps your mother would like to
go too; it's not a dangerous expedition, is it? I _was_ thinking of
taking you on a trip through the South Seas--but I suppose the Cathedral
towns are just as exciting. Or we might even penetrate as far into the
interior as the English lakes and read Wordsworth and Coleridge as we
go."

Miss Delamar's understudy observed him closely for a moment, but he made
no sign, and so she turned her eyes again to the fire with a slightly
troubled look. She had not a strong sense of humor, but she was very
beautiful.

Stuart's conscience troubled him for the next few moments, and he
endeavored to make up for his impatience of the moment before, by
telling the Picture how particularly well she was looking.

"It seems almost selfish to keep it all to myself," he mused.

"You don't mean," inquired the Picture, with tender anxiety, "that you
want any one else here, do you? I'm sure I could be content to spend
every evening like this. I've had enough of going out and talking to
people I don't care about. Two seasons," she added, with the superior
air of one who has put away childish things, "was quite enough of it for
me."

"Well, I never took it as seriously as that," said Stuart, "but, of
course, I don't want any one else here to spoil our evening. It is
perfect."

He assured himself that it _was_ perfect, but he wondered what was the
loyal thing for a married couple to do when the conversation came to a
dead stop. And did the conversation come to a stop because they
preferred to sit in silent sympathy and communion, or because they had
nothing interesting to talk about? Stuart doubted if silence was the
truest expressi