en him, of course; seen him going in and
out of his room----"

"Thank you," he said. "I am much obliged to you, and I apologize again
for my intrusion."

He was turning away; but suddenly he paused and, with a most deferential
air, said:

"May I ask you one question? The gentleman I wish to see, particularly
wish to see, is not at home. I have knocked several times and have got
no answer. May I ask if you happen to know whether he is likely to
return; I mean, do you think he has gone away?"

Celia did not hesitate for a moment; it seemed to her as if she were
inspired by an abnormal acuteness; instantly, she said:

"I believe he has gone away. The room is to let."

She had spoken the truth, and it was evident, by the old gentleman's
face, that he accepted her statement, for he regarded her with an
expression of profound disappointment, combined with one of anxiety.

"Oh!" he said, thoughtfully. "Indeed. Thank you very much." He turned
away, but again he paused. "You would be doing me a very great favour,
madam," he said, "if Mr. ----" He checked himself and looked at her with
sudden keenness. "Do you happen to know his name?"

"No," replied Celia. "It is not unusual," she explained. "I mean, that
very few of us in the Buildings know each other's names. It is a large
place, and the tenants come and go----"

"Quite so," he said, blandly. "I lived in the Temple for several years,
and did not know the name of the man on the floor below me, because the
name was not painted on the doorpost. London is a city of strangers.
Yes, yes. But may I trespass upon your kindness to the extent of asking
you to give a simple message to my young friend, if he should return?"

"Yes, I will do so," said Celia.

"Thank you, thank you. If you will, please, say just the four words, 'It
is all right.'"

Celia inclined her head; she could not speak; the blood surged to her
face, then left it white; her eyes closed, she felt as if she were going
to faint; the revulsion from terror to relief had been almost too great
for her.

The old gentleman saw the effect his words had upon her; he looked at
her curiously, his eyes piercing in their keenness.

"Tut! tut! What is the matter? Are you ill?" he asked, compassionately.

"No," Celia managed to enunciate. "I am tired. It is very hot--I was
resting when--when you came, I am not very well."

"Oh, I am sorry, very sorry that I should have disturbed you," he said.
"Pray forgive me. Is