s lighted by the open French windows of the
drawing-room, and reposed in wicker chairs, whilst they sipped their
coffee. He looked at her, and his heart grew big--with grief, with
resentment, with delight, with despair, with hope. "She cares for
me--she has said it, she has shown it. But then why does she send me
on this egregious wild-goose chase? She cares for me. But then why
does n't she arrange to give me a minute alone with her to-night?"

In the end,--well, was it Adrian, or was it Miss Sandus, whom he had to
thank for their minute alone?

"Why does nobody say, 'Dear kind Mr. Willes, do be nice, and sing us
something'?" Adrian plaintively inquired.

Anthony grasped the skirts of happy chance.

"Dear kind Mr. Willes, do be nice, and sing us something," he said at
once.

"I 'll play your accompaniments," volunteered Miss Sandus.

And she and the songster went into the drawing-room.

"Thank heaven," said Anthony, under his breath, but fervently, gazing
hard at Susanna.

She gave a little laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked.

"At your sudden access of piety," said she.

"At any rate," said he, "I owe no thanks to _you_. For all you cared,
apparently, we should have spent the whole of this last precious
evening surrounded by strangers."

"Mamam, dites-moi ce qu'on sent
Quand on aime,"

came the voice of Adrian from within.

"If you talk, we can't hear the music," said Susanna.

"Bother the music," responded Anthony.

"It was you who asked him to sing," she said.

"Bother his singing. This is my last evening with you. Do you think a
woman has the right to be as gloriously beautiful as you are to-night?
Do you think it's fair to the feelings of a poor wretched man, who
adores her, and whom she, in mere wanton wickedness, is sending to the
uttermost ends of the earth?"

Susanna had her fan of white feathers in her lap. She caressed it.

"I want to ask you something," said Anthony.

"What is it?" said she.

"A piece of information, to help me on my journey. Will you give it
me?"

"If I can, of course," said she, putting her fan on the table.

"You promise?" said he.

"If I have any information that can be of use to you, I 'll give it
with pleasure," she agreed.

"Very good. That's a promise," said he. "Now then, for my question.
I love you. Do you love me?"

He looked hard at her.

She laughed, in acknowledgment that she had been fairly caught. Then
her eyes