ield-sports, the home resources that filled up the
day, while intrigues of politics or fashion went silently on beneath
the surface. She recognized that in this apparently easy and indolent
existence a great game was ever being played, and that all the workings
of ambition, all the passions of love and hate and fear and jealousy
"were on the board."

They had dined sumptuously. The equivocal position in which they
appeared, far from detracting from the deference of the hotel people,
served but to increase their homage. Experience had shown that such
persons as they were supposed to be spent most and paid best, and so
they were served on the most splendid plate; waiters in full dress
attended them; even to the bouquet of hothouse flowers left on
"Mademoiselle's" napkin, all were little evidences of that consideration
of which Annesley Beecher well knew the meaning.

"Will you please to enlighten my ignorance on one point, Mr. Beecher?"
said she, as they sat over their coffee. "Is it customary in this rigid
England, of which you have told me so many things, for a young unmarried
lady to travel alone with a gentleman who is not even a relative?"

"When her father so orders it, I don't see that there can be much wrong
in it," said he, with some hesitation.

"That is not exactly an answer to my question; although I may gather
from it that the proceeding is, at least, unusual."

"I won't say it's quite customary," said Beecher; "but taking into
account that I am a very old and intimate friend of your father's--"

"There must, then, have been some very pressing emergency to make papa
adopt such a course," interrupted she.

"Why so?" asked he. "Is the arrangement so very distasteful to you?"

"Perhaps not; perhaps I like it very well. Perhaps I find you very
agreeable, very amusing, very--What shall I say?"

"Respectful."

"If you like that epithet, I have no objection to put it in your
character. Yet still do I come back to the thought that papa could
scarcely have struck out this plan without some grave necessity. Now, I
should like much to know what that is, or was." Beecher made no sign of
reply, and she quickly asked, "Do you know his reasons?"

"Yes," said he, gravely; "but I prefer that you should not question me
about them."

"I can't help that, Mr. Beecher," said she, in that half-careless
tone she sometimes used. "Just listen to me for one moment," said she,
earnestly, and fixing her eyes fully on him,--