hour.

"He felt perhaps as I feel now," she thought, pressing her hand against
her bosom; "I didn't know then--I didn't know!"

She turned to walk along the cliff.

"If I was sure," she told herself, "I think that I would--" but there
she paused, shuddered violently, and left the phrase unfinished.

At luncheon Jack was uncommonly cheerful. He asked her if she didn't
want to go to Nice and spend one of the two days before their departure.
She shook her head.

"But why don't you go?" she said; "you could just as well as not."

"I don't know but that I will," he replied; "only I hate to leave you
here alone."

"Oh, I'll do very well," she assured him, smiling.

About four that afternoon he came into her room, where she was lying in
a reclining-chair by the window, looking listlessly out and dreaming of
Munich. He stood before her for a long time, contemplating her and the
gown of lace and silk which foamed about her throat and arms, and then
cascaded down to spread in billows on the floor.

"I declare," he said suddenly, "it seems wasteful somehow for you to
dress like that just to sit here alone."

Her mouth curved a little.

"Is that a night-dress?" he inquired curiously.

"No, cousin, it's a tea-gown."

"Oh!"

He stood still beside her.

"They told me a funny thing at the steamship office this morning," he
said, after a while; "the man says that there's never a steamer sails
but that some one who has made their last payment down is obliged for
some reason to stay behind."

"Do they give them back their money?" she asked, trying to appear
interested.

"Yes; and they always fill the room either at Naples or Gibraltar."

And still he stood there.

"Why don't you sit down?" she asked at last.

"Where's Ottillie?" he said, without seeming to notice her question.

"I've sent her out to do some errands. Why, do you want anything done?"

"No;" he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I do love you, Rosina," he
added, half joking, half serious; "I wonder what sort of a show I'd have
had if I'd tried--ever?"

She shrank from him with a quick breath.

"Oh, Jack, I beg of you, don't tease me these days."

He straightened up and laughed, taking out his watch.

"It's quarter after four," he said, reflecting. "The mail must be in;
I'll see if there are any letters," and he went out.

She remained by the window, twirling the shade-tassel with her idle
fingers, and seeing, not the rattle and clatter of