to me by the Bishop, and Mr. Torkingham
commends it very highly.'

'On your honour, if you have any,' he said bitterly, 'whom have you there
in your room?'

'No human being.'

'Flatly, I don't believe you.'

She gave a dignified little bow, and, waving her hand into the apartment,
said, 'Very well; then search and see.'

Louis entered, and glanced round the room, behind the curtains, under the
bed, out of the window--a view from which showed that escape thence would
have been impossible,--everywhere, in short, capable or incapable of
affording a retreat to humanity; but discovered nobody. All he observed
was that a light stood on the low table by her bedside; that on the bed
lay an open Prayer-Book, the counterpane being unpressed, except into a
little pit beside the Prayer Book, apparently where her head had rested
in kneeling.

'But where is St. Cleeve?' he said, turning in bewilderment from these
evidences of innocent devotion.

'Where can he be?' she chimed in, with real distress. 'I should so much
like to know. Look about for him. I am quite uneasy!'

'I will, on one condition: that you own that you love him.'

'Why should you force me to that?' she murmured. 'It would be no such
wonder if I did.'

'Come, you do.'

'Well, I do.'

'Now I'll look for him.'

Louis took a light, and turned away, astonished that she had not
indignantly resented his intrusion and the nature of his questioning.

At this moment a slight noise was heard on the staircase, and they could
see a figure rising step by step, and coming forward against the long
lights of the staircase window. It was Swithin, in his ordinary dress,
and carrying his boots in his hand. When he beheld them standing there
so motionless, he looked rather disconcerted, but came on towards his
room.

Lady Constantine was too agitated to speak, but Louis said, 'I am glad to
see you again. Hearing a noise, a few minutes ago, I came out to learn
what it could be. I found you absent, and we have been very much
alarmed.'

'I am very sorry,' said Swithin, with contrition. 'I owe you a hundred
apologies: but the truth is that on entering my bedroom I found the sky
remarkably clear, and though I told you that the observation I was to
make was of no great consequence, on thinking it over alone I felt it
ought not to be allowed to pass; so I was tempted to run across to the
observatory, and make it, as I had hoped, without disturbing anybody. If
I