e that something will occur to
prevent your being united to a woman who lived thousands of years ago. I
am sorry to say it, but Fate will intervene. Remember, it is the god
of her people that I suppose she worships, and, I may add, to which the
whole world bows."

At his words a kind of chill fell upon me. I think he saw or divined it,
for after a few remarks upon some indifferent matter, he turned and went
away.

Shortly after this Yva came to sit with me. She studied me for a while
and I studied her. I had reason to do so, for I observed that of late
her dress had become much more modern, and on the present occasion
this struck me forcibly. I do not know exactly in what the change, or
changes, consisted, because I am not skilled in such matters and can
only judge of a woman's garments by their general effect. At any rate,
the gorgeous sweeping robes were gone, and though her attire still
looked foreign and somewhat oriental, with a touch of barbaric splendour
about it--it was simpler than it had been and showed more of her figure,
which was delicate, yet gracious.

"You have changed your robes, Lady," I said. "Yes, Humphrey. Bastin gave
me pictures of those your women wear." (On further investigation I found
that this referred to an old copy of the Queen newspaper, which, somehow
or other, had been brought with the books from the ship.) "I have tried
to copy them a little," she added doubtfully.

"How do you do it? Where do you get the material?" I asked.

"Oh!" she answered with an airy wave of her hand, "I make it--it is
there."

"I don't understand," I said, but she only smiled radiantly, offering no
further explanation. Then, before I could pursue the subject, she asked
me suddenly:

"What has Bickley been saying to you about me?" I fenced, answering:
"I don't know. Bastin and Bickley talk of little else. You seem to have
been a great deal with them while I was ill."

"Yes, a great deal. They are the nearest to you who were so sick. Is it
not so?"

"I don't know," I answered again. "In my illness it seemed to me that
you were the nearest."

"About Bastin's words I can guess," she went on. "But I ask again--what
has Bickley been saying to you about me? Of the first part, let it be;
tell me the rest."

I intended to evade her question, but she fixed those violet, compelling
eyes upon me and I was obliged to answer.

"I believe you know as well as I do," I said; "but if you will have it,
it was that