of Mdlle. Roche. Meetings were
appointed by post-card--always in Patty's hand if the initiative were
female; they took place three or four times a week. As it was now
necessary for Eve to make payments on her own account, Hilliard
despatched to her by post a remittance in paper money, and of this no
word passed between them. Three weeks later he again posted the same
sum. On the morrow they went by river to St. Cloud--it was always a
trio, Hilliard never making any other proposal--and the steam-boat
afforded Eve an opportunity of speaking with her generous friend apart.

"I don't want this money," she said, giving him an envelope. "What you
sent before isn't anything like finished. There's enough for a month
more."

"Keep it all the same. I won't have any pinching."

"There's nothing of the kind. If I don't have my way in this I shall go
back to London."

He put the envelope in his pocket, and stood silent, with eyes fixed on
the river bank.

"How long do you intend us to stay?" asked Eve.

"As long as you find pleasure here."

"And--what am I to do afterwards?"

He glanced at her.

"A holiday must come to an end," she added, trying, but without
success, to meet his look.

"I haven't given any thought to that," said Hilliard, carelessly;
"there's plenty of time. It will be fine weather for many weeks yet."

"But I have been thinking about it. I should be crazy if I didn't."

"Tell me your thoughts, then."

"Should you be satisfied if I got a place at Birmingham?"

There again Was the note of self-abasement. It irritated the listener.

"Why do you put it in that way? There's no question of what satisfies
me, but of what is good for you."

"Then I think it had better be Birmingham."

"Very well. It's understood that when we leave Paris we go there."

A silence. Then Eve asked abruptly:

"You will go as well?"

"Yes, I shall go back."

"And what becomes of your determination to enjoy life as long as you
can?"

"I'm carrying it out. I shall go back satisfied, at all events."

"And return to your old work?"

"I don't know. It depends on all sorts of things. We won't talk of it
just yet."

Patty approached, and Hilliard turned to her with a bright, jesting
face.

Midway in August, on his return home one afternoon, the concierge let
him know that two English gentlemen had been inquiring for him; one of
them had left a card. With surprise and pleasure Hilliard read the name
of Robert Narramor