nothing false and nothing cruel
in that face."

"And does the discovery satisfy you? For my part, I despise Romayne for
hiding himself from us. Can you excuse him?"

Stella locked up the portrait in her writing-case. "I can wait," she
said quietly.

This assertion of patience seemed to irritate Lady Loring "What is the
matter with you this morning?" she asked. "You are more reserved than
ever."

"No; I am only out of spirits, Adelaide. I can't help thinking of that
meeting with Winterfield. I feel as if some misfortune was hanging over
my head."

"Don't speak of that hateful man!" her ladyship exclaimed. "I have
something to tell you about Romayne. Are you completely absorbed in your
presentiments of evil? or do you think you can listen to me?"

Stella's face answered for her. Lady Loring described the interview with
Major Hynd in the minutest detail--including, by way of illustration,
the Major's manners and personal appearance. "He and Lord Loring," she
added, "both think that Romayne will never hear the last of it if he
allows these foreigners to look to him for money. Until something more
is known about them, the letter is not to be forwarded."

"I wish I had the letter," cried Stella.

"Would you forward it to Romayne?"

"Instantly! Does it matter whether these poor French people are worthy
of his generosity? If it restores his tranquillity to help them, who
cares whether they deserve the help? They are not even to know who it is
that assists them--Romayne is to be their unknown friend. It is he, not
they, whom we have to think of--his peace of mind is everything; their
merit is nothing. I say it's cruel to _him_ to keep him in ignorance of
what has happened. Why didn't you take the letter away from Major Hynd?"

"Gently, Stella! The Major is going to make inquiries about the widow
and children when he returns to London."

"When he returns!" Stella repeated indignantly. "Who knows what the poor
wretches may be suffering in the interval, and what Romayne may feel
if he ever hears of it? Tell me the address again--it was somewhere in
Islington, you said."

"Why do you want to know it?" Lady Loring asked. "You are not going to
write to Romayne yourself?"

"I am going to think, before I do anything. If you can't trust my
discretion, Adelaide, you have only to say so!"

It was spoken sharply. Lady Loring's reply betrayed a certain loss
of temper on her side. "Manage your own affairs, Stella--I have don