friends. Rosamund had also been invited, and much wanted, for
there was a party in the house, and her gaiety, her beauty, and her fine
singing made her a desirable guest; but she had "got out of it." On this
particular Sunday she specially wished to be in London. At a church not
far from Great Cumberland Place--St. Mary's, Welby Street--a man was
going to preach that evening whom she very much wanted to hear. Her
guardian's friend, Canon Wilton, had spoken to her about him, and had
said to her once, "I should particularly like _you_ to hear him." And
somehow the simple words had impressed themselves upon her. So, when
she heard that Mr. Robertson was coming from his church in Liverpool to
preach at St. Mary's, she gave up the country visit to hear him.

Beatrice and Bruce Evelin had no scruples in leaving her alone for a
couple of days. They knew that she, who had such an exceptional faculty
for getting on with all sorts and conditions of men and women, and
who always shed sunshine around her, had within her a great love of,
sometimes almost a thirst for, solitude.

"I need to be alone now and then," they had heard her say; "it's like
drinking water to me."

Sitting quietly by the fire with her delightful edition of Dante, her
left hand under her head, her tall figure stretched out in a low chair,
Rosamund heard a bell ring below. It called her from the "Paradiso." She
sprang up, remembering that she had given the butler no orders about not
wishing to be disturbed. At lunch-time the fog had been so dense that
she had not thought about possible visitors; she hurried to the head of
the staircase.

"Lurby! Lurby! I'm not at--"

It was too late. The butler must have been in the hall. She heard the
street door open and a man's voice murmuring something. Then the door
shut and she heard steps. She retreated into the drawing-room, pulling
down her brows and shaking her head. No more "Paradiso," and she loved
it so! A moment before she had been far away.

The book was lying open on the arm-chair in which she had been sitting.
She went to close it and put it on a table. For an instant she looked
down on the page, and immediately her dream returned. Then Lurby's dry,
soft voice said behind her:

"Mr. Leith, ma'am."

"Oh!" She turned, leaving the book.

Directly she looked at Dion Leith she knew why he had come.

"I'm all alone," Rosamund said. "I stayed here, instead of going to
Sherrington with Beattie and my guardia