ent and a
faint contempt were to be read by a close observer.

"The book?" he said. "Oh, something, I am afraid, that wouldn't
interest you! I don't believe the writer knew anything of far
countries--or even of fishing." He paused, and deliberately turned half
a dozen pages. "He only understood one thing, but that he understood
perfectly."

Gore laughed.

"And may a philistine ask what it was?"

"Oh, certainly! It was love."

The door opened as he said the word in his high, expressive voice, and
to Clodagh's indescribable relief, Nance entered.

In the second that she stepped across the threshold her bright eyes
passed from one face to the other, and a rapid process of deduction
took place in her mind.

"Walter," she said pleasantly, "Pierce says there's one question he
forgot to ask you about Japan. Do you mind if I ask it now?" She walked
to the open window.

Gore followed her; and Clodagh drew a breath of deep relief.

Ten minutes passed--ten interminable minutes, in which she strove to
attend to Deerehurst's words, while her ears were strained to follow
the conversation in the window. Then at last relief came. He rose to
go.

"I must say good-bye!" he said, taking her hand. "I shall await your
verdict on the verses. There is one I want you specially to read--the
last one. Good-bye!"

She smiled, scarcely hearing what he said; and a moment later he had
bowed to the two in the window, and passed out of the room.

As the outer door closed, Nance came across to her sister.

"Do you mind if I run down to Sloane Street, Clo?" she asked. "I never
remembered those lozenges for Aunt Fan, and I can just catch the Irish
mail."

Without waiting for an answer, she stooped and kissed Clodagh's
forehead; and, turning, passed out of the room.

After she had left, there was a silence, in which neither Clodagh nor
Gore made any attempt to speak.

Filled with a nervous sense of something inevitably impending, Clodagh
sat very still. She dreaded to look at Gore, lest she might precipitate
what he was going to say; yet, to her strained mind, suspense appeared
intolerable. She clasped her hands suddenly, with a little catching of
the breath.

At the faint, yet significant sound, he turned from the window; and
coming quietly across the room, paused behind her chair.

"Clodagh!" He bent over her, laying his hands gently on her shoulders.
"Clodagh, we talked to-day of the night at Tuffnell--of what you said
that ni