nce showed him that Adare had gone to Miriam. Instead
of words of greeting, he whispered low in Josephine's ear:

"I would have come sooner, but I have been with Jean. He returned a few
minutes ago. Strange things have happened, and he says that he must see
you within an hour, and that your father must not know. He is in my
room. You must get away without rousing suspicion."

Her fingers gripped his tightly. The soft glow in her eyes faded away.
A look of fear leapt into them and her face went suddenly white. He
drew her nearer, until her hands were against his breast.

"Don't look like that," he whispered. "Nothing can hurt you. Nothing in
the world. See--I must do this to bring your colour back, or they will
guess something is wrong!"

He bent and kissed her on the lips.

Adare's voice burst out happily:

"Good boy, Philip! Don't be bashful when we're around. That's the first
time I've seen you kiss your wife!"

There was none of the white betrayal in Josephine's cheeks now. They
were the colour of the rose in her hair. She had time to look up into
Philip's face, and whisper with a laughing break in her voice:

"Thank you, Philip. You have saved me again."

With Philip's hand in hers she turned to her father and mother.

"Philip wants to scold me, Mon Pere," she said. "And I cannot blame
him. He has seen almost nothing of me to-day."

"And I have been scolding Miriam because they have given me no chance
with the baby," rumbled Adare. "I have seen him but twice to-day--the
little beggar! And both times he was asleep. But I have forced them to
terms, Philip. From to-morrow I am to have him as much as I please.
When they want him they will find him in the big room."

Josephine led Philip to her mother, who had seated herself on one of
the divans.

"I want you to talk with Philip, Mikawe," she said. "I have promised
father that he should have a peep at the baby. I will bring him back
very soon."

Philip seated himself beside Miriam as Adare and Josephine left the
room. He noticed that her hair was dressed like Josephine's, and that
in the soft depths of it was partly buried a rose.

"Do you know--I sometimes think that I am half dreaming," he said. "All
this seems too wonderful to be true--you, and Josephine, almost a
thousand miles out of the world. Even flowers like that which you wear
in your hair--hot-house flowers!"

There was a strange sweetness in Miriam's smile, a smile softened by
something th