e, and I knew I could not undertake that quest with any
hope of success unless I was physically fit.

I had not divulged my intention to any one, nor did I mean to do so if I
could avoid it; certainly I would not allow Mary even to suspect my
purpose. At present I could make no plans, except that of course I
should have to return to Russia under an assumed name; and as a further
precaution I took advantage of my illness to grow a beard and mustache.
They had already got beyond the "stubby" and disreputable stage, and
changed my appearance marvellously.

Mary objected strenuously to the innovation, and declared it made me
"look like a middle-aged foreigner," which was precisely the effect I
hoped for; though, naturally, I didn't let her know that.

Under any other circumstances I would have thoroughly enjoyed my stay
with her and Jim at the cottage, a quaint, old-fashioned place, with a
beautiful garden, sloping down to the edge of the cliffs, where I was
content to sit for hours, watching the sea--calm and sapphire blue in
these August days--and striving to possess my soul in patience. In a
way I did enjoy the peace and quietude, the pure, delicious air; for
they were means to the ends I had in view,--my speedy recovery, and the
beginning of the quest which I must start as soon as possible.

We were sitting in the garden now,--Mary and I alone for once, for Jim
was off to the golf links.

I had known, all along, of course, that she was fretting about Anne; but
I had managed, hitherto, to avoid any discussion of her silence, which,
though more mysterious to Mary than to me, was not less distressing. And
I hoped fervently that she wouldn't resume the subject.

She didn't, for, to my immense relief, as I sat staring at the fuchsia
hedge that screened the approach to the house, I saw a black clerical
hat bobbing along, and got a glimpse of a red face.

"There's a parson coming here," I remarked inanely, and Mary started up,
mopping her eyes with her ridiculous little handkerchief.

"Goodness! It must be the vicar coming to call,--I heard he was
back,--and I'm such a fright! Talk to him, Maurice, and say I'll be down
directly."

She disappeared within the house just as the old-fashioned door-bell
clanged sonorously.

A few seconds later a trim maid-servant--that same tall parlor-maid who
had once before come opportunely on the scene--tripped out, conducting a
handsome old gentleman, whom she announced as "the Reve