ll
admit that!--is to save you possible pain--a possible shock."

"Mr. Arthur!" the voice was peremptory--"If you have learned anything
about Mr. Anderson's private history--by chance--without his
knowledge--that perhaps he would rather we did not know--I beg you will
not tell me--indeed--please--I forbid you to tell me. We owe him much
kindness these last few weeks. I cannot gossip about him behind
his back."

All her fine slenderness of form, her small delicacy of feature, seemed
to him tense and vibrating, like some precise and perfect instrument
strained to express a human feeling or intention. But what feeling?
While he divined it, was she herself unconscious of it? His
bitterness grew.

"Dear Lady Merton--can you not trust an old friend?"

She did not soften.

"I do trust him. But"--her smile flashed--"even new acquaintances have
their rights."

"You will not understand," he said, earnestly. "What is in my mind came
to me, through no wish or will of mine. You cannot suppose that I have
been prying into Mr. Anderson's affairs! But now that the information is
mine, I feel a great responsibility towards you."

"Don't feel it. I am a wilful woman."

"A rather perplexing one! May I at least be sure that"--he
hesitated--"that you will be on your guard?"

"On my guard?" she lifted her eyebrows proudly--"and against what?"

"That is precisely what you won't let me tell you."

She laughed--a little fiercely.

"There we are; no forrarder. But please remember, Mr. Arthur, how soon
we shall all be separating. Nothing very dreadful can happen in these
few days--can it?"

For the first time there was a touch of malice in her smile.

Delaine rose, took one or two turns along the path in front of her, and
then suddenly stopped beside her.

"I think"--he said, with emphasis, "that Mr. Anderson will probably find
himself summoned away--immediately--before you get to Vancouver. But
that I will discuss with him. You could give me no address, so I have
not yet been able to communicate with him."

Again Elizabeth's eyebrows went up. She rose.

"Of course you will do what you think best. Shall we go back to the
hotel?"

They walked along in silence. He saw that she was excited, and that he
had completely missed his stroke; but he did not see how to mend the
situation.

"Oh! there is Philip, going to fish," said Elizabeth at last, as though
nothing had happened. "I wondered what could possibly have got him up
s