e
attempts.

Can man's deepest love be deepened? Then it must surely be by the
knowledge that he is protector as well as lover, by the knowledge that
he is rescuing innocence, and rescuing it for--himself. Thoughts such
as these bring exaltation to the humblest-minded, and they quickened the
slow-flowing and thin fluid that filled the architect's veins.

He came back one evening from the church weary with a long day's work,
and was sitting by the fire immersed in a medley of sleepy and
half-conscious consideration, now of the crack in the centre tower, now
of the tragedy of the organ-loft, now of Anastasia, when the elder Miss
Joliffe entered.

"Dear me, sir," she said, "I did not know you were in! I only came to
see your fire was burning. Are you ready for your tea? Would you like
anything special to-night? You do look so very tired. I am sure you
are working too hard; all the running about on ladders and scaffolds
must be very trying. I think indeed, sir, if I may make so bold, that
you should take a holiday; you have not had a holiday since you came to
live with us."

"It is not impossible, Miss Joliffe, that I may take your advice before
very long. It is not impossible that I may before long go for a
holiday."

He spoke with that preternatural gravity which people are accustomed to
throw into their reply, if asked a trivial question when their own
thoughts are secretly occupied with some matter that they consider of
deep importance. How could this commonplace woman guess that he was
thinking of death and love? He must be gentle with her and forgive her
interruption. Yes, fate might, indeed, drive him to take a holiday. He
had nearly made up his mind to propose to Anastasia. It was scarcely to
be doubted that she would at once accept him, but there must be no
half-measures, he would brook no shilly-shallying, he would not be
played fast and loose with. She must either accept him fully and
freely, and at once, or he would withdraw his offer, and in that case,
or still more in the entirely improbable case of refusal, he would leave
Bellevue Lodge forthwith.

"Yes, indeed, I may ere long have to go away for a holiday."

The conscious forbearance of replying at all gave a quiet dignity to his
tone, and an involuntary sigh that accompanied his words was not lost
upon Miss Joliffe. To her this speech seemed oracular and ominous;
there was a sepulchral mystery in so vague an expression. He might
_