e foresee what the morning post would bring and deposit,
like an unwelcome bomb, upon his breakfast tray?

His London publishers wanted to see him at once, not only on a
multitude of details concerning his forthcoming book, but on a
subject, as they hoped, of great interest and importance to him.

Thinking it a matter of a day or so, Appleton scribbled notes to Mrs.
Kennion and Miss Tucker, with whom he was to go on an excursion, and
departed forthwith to London.

Everything happened in London. The American publishers wanted a
different title for the book and four more chapters to lengthen it to
a size selling (at a profit) for two dollars and a half. The English
publishers thought he had dealt rather slightingly with a certain very
interesting period, and he remembered, guiltily, that he had been at
Bexley Sands when he wrote the chapters in question. It would take
three days' labor to fill up these gaps, he calculated, and how
fortunate that Miss Thomasina Tucker was safely entrenched in the
heart of an ecclesiastical stronghold for the next month or two; a
town where he had not, so far as he knew, a single formidable rival.
He wrote her regarding his unexpected engagements, adding with
legitimate pride that one of England's foremost critics had offered to
write a preface for his book; then he settled to his desk and slaved
at his task until it was accomplished, when he departed with a beating
heart for the town and county that held Miss Thomasina Tucker in their
keeping.

Alighting at the familiar railway station, he took a hansom, intending
to drop his portmanteau at his lodgings and go on to the palace for
news, but as he was driving by the deanery on the north side of
Cathedral Green, he encountered Mrs. Kennion in her victoria. She
signaled him with her hand and spoke to her coachman, who drew up his
horses. Alighting from his hansom, he strode forward to take her
welcoming hand, his face radiating the pleasure of a home-coming
traveler.

"If you'll let the cabman take your luggage, I'd like to drive you
home myself. I have something to tell you," said Mrs. Kennion, making
room for him by her side.

"Nothing has happened, I hope?" he asked anxiously.

"Miss Tucker is leaving for America to-morrow morning."

"Going away?" Appleton's tone was one of positive dismay.

"Yes. It is all very sudden and unexpected."

"Sailing to-morrow?" exclaimed Appleton, taking out his watch. "From
where? How can I get t