u are thinking. You are saying to yourself
that I am false to my creed by dining with a stranger, in order to see a
man who may have been a donkey-boy in Cairo; but if I have made you
curious by talking about him, what must I be, who have seen him?"

"You have accepted the invitation of the German, then, in order to get
an introduction to Signor Ricordo?"

"Exactly. I know I am not courteous to my German host, but it is the
truth. Besides, to give your Home of Rest its due, they do things very
well there."

"Thank you," said Olive, with a laugh. "I am always pleased when I give
my customers satisfaction."

A little later Herbert Briarfield left Vale Linden and rode back to his
home.

"How much she must have loved the fellow after all!" he said to himself.
"It must be six years at least since he threw up the sponge, and yet she
remains true to his memory. I cannot understand it. Of course one
doesn't know all that happened; yet how could she give the fellow up
because he was such a cur, and then refuse to marry any one else because
he committed suicide?"

During the afternoon he rode out to see some off-farms, and then came
back to dress for dinner. "What an idea to build such a place!" he said
as the carriage rolled along. "Still, I suppose a wilful woman must
have her way."

Herr Truebner, the German, met him with a great show of politeness, and
did the honours of the dinner with much effusion.

"You know the patroness of this establishment?" he said presently.

"Yes, I know her," replied Briarfield, rather ungraciously.

"I have hoped to see her," said Herr Truebner, "but up to now I have been
unsuccessful. And yet I was told she came here constantly. It was one of
the things which induced me to come. So beautiful, so generous, so
pious, I could not resist the desire to see her."

"It is possible you may be disappointed," said Briarfield. He was rather
angry that the woman he hoped to marry should be talked about in such a
way.

"Oh, no, I shall not be disappointed," replied the German. "Only half an
hour ago I was told that while I was out walking with Signor Ricordo she
was down here, and that she had arranged for a concert to be held in two
evenings from now. Ah, and I love music! I who am from the country of
Handel and Strauss, and Schubert and Wagner, I love it! I may be a poor,
broken-down old German, but I love it, as I love all things beautiful."

"Is it not rather strange that your friend Sign