master had
just left the Belvidere, and had gone into his study."

Crossing the inner hall, on her way to the study, Stella noticed an
unopened letter, addressed to Romayne, lying on a table in a corner. He
had probably laid it aside and forgotten it. She entered his room with
the letter in her hand.

The only light was a reading lamp, with the shade so lowered that the
corners of the study were left in obscurity. In one of these corners
Romayne was dimly visible, sitting with his head sunk on his breast. He
never moved when Stella opened the door. At first she thought he might
be asleep.

"Do I disturb you, Lewis?" she asked softly.

"No, my dear."

There was a change in the tone of his voice, which his wife's quick ear
detected. "I am afraid you are not well," she said anxiously.

"I am a little tired after our long ride to-day. Do you want to go back
to the Belvidere?"

"Not without you. Shall I leave you to rest here?"

He seemed not to hear the question. There he sat, with his head hanging
down, the shadowy counterfeit of an old man. In her anxiety, Stella
approached him, and put her hand caressingly on his head. It was burning
hot. "O!" she cried, "you _are_ ill, and you are trying to hide it from
me."

He put his arm round her waist and made her sit on his knee. "Nothing is
the matter with me," he said, with an uneasy laugh. "What have you got
in your hand? A letter?"

"Yes. Addressed to you and not opened yet." He took it out of her hand,
and threw it carelessly on a sofa near him. "Never mind that now! Let
us talk." He paused, and kissed her, before he went on. "My darling, I
think you must be getting tired of Vange?"

"Oh, no! I can be happy anywhere with you--and especially at Vange.
You don't how this noble old house interests me, and how I admire the
glorious country all round it."

He was not convinced. "Vange is very dull," he said, obstinately; "and
your friends will be wanting to see you. Have you heard from your mother
lately?"

"No. I am surprised she has not written."

"She has not forgiven us for getting married so quietly," he went on.
"We had better go back to London and make our peace with her. Don't you
want to see the house my aunt left me at Highgate?"

Stella sighed. The society of the man she loved was society enough
for her. Was he getting tired of his wife already? "I will go with you
wherever you like." She said those words in tones of sad submission, and
gently got