hape, and the ends hung loose.

Him Mrs. Spence at once presented to her cousin as "Mr. Mallard." He
bowed ungracefully; then, with a manner naturally frank but constrained
by obvious shyness, took the hand Miriam held to him.

"We are scarcely strangers, Mr. Mallard," she said in a self-possessed
tone, regarding him with steady eyes.

"Miss Doran has spoken of you frequently on the journey," he replied,
knitting his brows into a scowl as he smiled and returned her look.
"Your illness made her very anxious. You are much better, I hope?"

"Much, thank you."

Allowance made for the difference of quality in their voices, Mrs.
Baske and Mallard resembled each other in speech. They had the same
grave note, the same decision.

"They must be very tired after their journey," Miriam added, seating
herself.

"Miss Doran seems scarcely so at all; but Mrs. Lessingham is rather
over-wearied, I'm afraid."

"Why didn't you break the journey at Florence or Rome?" asked Mrs.
Spence.

"I proposed it, but other counsels prevailed. All through Italy Miss
Doran was distracted between desire to get to Naples and misery at not
being able to see the towns we passed. At last she buried herself in
the 'Revue des Deux Mondes,' and refused even to look out of the
window."

"I suppose we may go and see her in the morning?" said Miriam.

"My express instructions are," replied Mallard, "that you are on no
account to go. They will come here quite early. Miss Doran begged hard
to come with me now, but I wouldn't allow it."

"Is it the one instance in which your authority has prevailed?"
inquired Spence. "You seem to declare it in a tone of triumph."

"Well," replied the other, with a grim smile, leaning forward in his
chair, "I don't undertake to lay down rules for the young lady of
eighteen as I could for the child of twelve. But my age and sobriety of
character still ensure me respect."

He glanced at Mrs. Baske, and their eyes met. Miriam smiled rather
coldly, but continued to observe him after he had looked away again.

"You met them at Genoa?" she asked presently, in her tone of habitual
reserve.

"Yes. I came by sea from London, and had a couple of days to wait for
their arrival from Paris."

"And I suppose you also are staying at Mrs. Gluck's?"

"Oh no! I have a room at old quarters of mine high up in the town, Vico
Brancaccio. I shall only be in Naples a few days."

"How's that?" inquired Spence.

"I'm going to work a