irs" of her lover, or possible lover. Vidall did not take pains to
impress her with the fact that the matter occurred when he was almost a
boy; and it was when her earnest inquisition had drawn from him, bit by
bit, the circumstances of the case, and she had forgotten many parts of
her commination service and to preserve an effective neutrality in tone,
that she became aware he was speaking ancient history. Then it was too
late to draw back.

They had threaded their way through the crowd into the conservatory,
where they were quite alone, and there, with only a little pyramid of
hydrangeas between them, which she could not help but notice chimed well
with the colour of her dress, he dropped his voice a little lower, and
then suddenly said, his eyes hard on her: "I want your permission to go
to Greyhope."

The tone drew her eyes hastily to his, and, seeing, she dropped them
again. Vidall had a strong will, and, what is of more consequence, a
peculiarly attractive voice. It had a vibration which made some of his
words organ-like in sound. She felt the influence of it. She said a
little faintly, her fingers toying with a hydrangea: "I am afraid I do
not understand. There is no reason why you should not go to Greyhope
without my permission."

"I cannot go without it," he persisted. "I am waiting for my commission
from you."

She dropped her hand from the flower with a little impatient motion.
She was tired, her head ached, she wanted to be alone. "Why are you
enigmatical?" she said. Then quickly: "I wish I knew what is in your
mind. You play with words so."

She scarcely knew what she said. A woman who loves a man very much is
not quick to take in the absolute declaration of that man's love on the
instant; it is too wonderful for her. He felt his check flush with hers,
he drew her look again to his. "Marion! Marion!" he said. That was all.

"Oh, hush, some one is coming!" was her quick, throbbing reply. When
they parted a half-hour later, he said to her: "Will you give me my
commission to go to Greyhope?"

"Oh no, I cannot," she said very gravely; "but come to Greyhope-when I
go back."

"And when will that be?" he said, smiling, yet a little ruefully too.

"Please ask Mrs. Townley," she replied; "she is coming also."

Marion, knew what that commission to go to Greyhope meant. But she
determined that he should see Lali first, before anything irrevocable
was done. She still looked upon Frank's marriage as a scanda