them, leaving them quite alone. Concealed by the great
pillar from all of those in the far front of the church, Inez gave
Roddy her hand. The eyes that looked into his were serious, penitent.

"I am so sorry," she begged; "can you forgive me?"

"Forgive you!" whispered Roddy. His voice was filled with such delight
that it was apparently a sufficient answer. Inez, smiling slightly,
withdrew her hand, and taking from inside her glove a folded piece of
paper, thrust it toward him.

"I brought this for you," she said.

Roddy seized it greedily.

"For me!" he exclaimed in surprise. As though in apology for the
question he raised his eyes appealingly. "How did you know," he
begged, "that I would be here?"

For an instant, with a frown, the girl regarded him steadily. Then her
cheeks flushed slightly and her eyes grew radiant. She flashed upon
him the same mocking, dazzling smile that twice before had left him in
complete subjection.

"How did you know," she returned, "_I_ would be here?"

She moved instantly from him, but Roddy started recklessly in pursuit.

"Wait!" he demanded. "Just what does that mean?"

With an imperative gesture the girl motioned him back, and then, as
though to soften the harshness of the gesture, reassured him in a
voice full of consideration.

"The note will tell you," she whispered, and, turning her back on him,
hurried to the door.

Roddy allowed her sufficient time in which to leave the neighborhood
of the church, and while he waited, as the most obvious method of
expressing his feelings, stuffed all the coins in his pockets into the
poor-box. From the church he hastened to an empty bench in the
Alameda, and opened the note. He was surprised to find that it came
from Mrs. Broughton, the wife of the English Consul at Porto Cabello.
She was an American girl who, against the advice of her family, had
married an Englishman, and one much older than herself. Since their
marriage he had indulged and spoiled her as recklessly as any American
might have done, and at the same time, in his choice of a wife, had
continued to consider himself a most fortunate individual. Since his
arrival at Porto Cabello Roddy had been a friend of each. For hours he
would play in the garden with their children, without considering it
necessary to inform either the father or mother that he was on the
premises; and on many evenings the Broughtons and himself sat in his
_patio_ reading the American periodicals, wi