here?"

"Not sailing to-morrow--leaving Wells to-morrow on an early train and
sailing Saturday from Southampton."

"Oh, the world is not lost entirely, then!"--and Appleton leaned back
and wiped his forehead. "What has happened? I ought never to have gone
to London."

"She had a cable yesterday from her Brooklyn church, offering her a
better position in the choir, but saying that they could hold it only
ten days. By post on the same day she received a letter from a New
York friend--"

"Was it a Carl Bothwick?"

"No; a Miss Macleod, who said that a much better position was in the
market in a church where Miss Tucker had influential friends. She was
sure that if Miss Tucker returned immediately to sing for the
committee she could secure a thousand-dollar salary. We could do
nothing but advise her to make the effort, you see."

"Did she seem determined to go?"

"No; she appeared a little undecided and timid. However, she said
frankly that, though she had earned enough in England to pay her
steamer passage to America, and a month's expenses afterward, she
could not be certain of continuing to do so much through a London
winter. 'If I only had a little more time to think it out,' she kept
saying, 'but I haven't, so I must go!'"

"Where is she now?"

"At her lodgings. The bishop is detained in Bath and I am dining with
friends in his stead. I thought you might go and take her to dinner at
the Swan, so that she shouldn't be alone, and then bring her to the
palace afterward--if--if all is well."

"If I have any luck two churches will be lamenting her loss to-morrow
morning," said Fergus gloomily; "but she wouldn't have consented to go
if she cared anything about me!"

"Nonsense, my dear boy! You were away. No self-respecting girl would
wire you to come back. She was helpless even if she did care. Here we
are! Shall I send a hansom back in half an hour?"

"Twenty-five minutes will do it," Appleton answered briskly. "You are
an angel, dear lady!"

"Keep your blarney! I hope you'll need it all for somebody else
to-night! Good fortune, dear boy!"

VIII

Appleton flung the contents of his portmanteau into his closet, rid
himself of the dust of travel, made a quick change, and in less than
forty minutes was at the door of Miss Tucker's lodgings.

She had a little sitting-room on the first floor, and his loud
rat-a-tat brought her to the door instead of the parlor-maid.

At the unexpected sight of him she t