erestedly going to make me a present of?' he asked.

'Jack is one of the masters at the Art School,' said Trixie; 'he's
awfully handsome--not in your style, but fair, with a longer
moustache, and he's too clever almost to live. He had one picture in
the Grosvenor this year, in the little room, down by the bottom
somewhere, but he hasn't sold it. And when I first went to the School
all the girls declared he came round to me twice as much as he did to
them, and they made themselves perfectly horrid about it; so I had to
ask him not to come so often, and he didn't--for a time. Then one day
he asked me if I would rather he never came to me at all, and--and I
couldn't say yes, and so somehow we got engaged. Ma's furious about
it, and so is Martha; but then, ma has never seen Jack----'

'And Martha _has_? I see!' put in Mark.

'Jack knows a lot about literature; he admires "Illusion" immensely,
Mark,' added Trixie, thinking in her innocence that this would enlist
his sympathy at once. 'He wants to know you dreadfully.'

'Well, Trixie,' said Mark paternally, 'you must bring him to see me.
We mustn't have you doing anything imprudent, you know. Let me see
what I think of him. I hope he's a good fellow?'

'Oh, he _is_,' said Trixie; 'if you could only see some of his
sketches!'

A day or two later, Mark had an opportunity of meeting his intending
brother-in-law, of whom he found no particular reason to disapprove,
though he secretly thought him a slightly commonplace young man, and
too inclined to be familiar with himself; and shortly after he started
for the Black Forest, whither Caffyn had prevailed upon him to be his
companion. He thought it would be amusing and serve to keep his
vengeance alive to have his intended victim always at hand, but the
result did not quite come up to his hopes. Mark had so lulled his
fears to rest that the most artfully planned introduction of Holroyd's
name failed to disturb him. He thought chiefly during their wanderings
of Mabel, and her smile and words at parting, and in this occupation
he was so pleasantly absorbed that it was impossible to rouse him by
any means short of the rudest awakening. And by-and-by a curious
change took place in Caffyn's feelings towards him; in spite of
himself the virulence of his hatred began to abate. Time and change of
scene were proving more powerful than he had anticipated; away from
Mabel, his hatred, even of her, flagged more and more with every day,
a