you or I," he ended, "we shouldn't have minded.
Paris doesn't amuse us just now."

"Oh, but, John, we must be ready to start at any moment."

"You can't start without Miss Bussey,"

"I think that in a wagon-lit----" began Mary.

"But what's the good of talking?" cried John, bitterly. "Why is there
no news from her?"

"He _might_ have wired--John, is it possible our telegrams went astray?"

"Well, we must wait a day or two; or, if you like, we can wire again."

Mary hesitated.

"I--I can't do that, John. Suppose he'd received the first, and--and--"

"Yes, I see. I don't want to humiliate myself either."

"We'll wait a day, anyhow. And, now, John, let's think no more about
them! Oh, well, that's nonsense; but let's enjoys ourselves as well as
we can."

They managed to enjoy themselves very well. The town was new to Mary,
and John found a pleasure in showing it off to her. After a morning of
sight-seeing, they drove in the Bois, and ended the day at the theatre.
Miss Bussey, unfortunately, was no better. She had sent for an English
doctor and he talked vaguely about two or three days in bed. Mary
ventured to ask whether her aunt could travel.

"Oh, if absolutely necessary, perhaps; but much better not," was the
answer.

Well, it was not absolutely necessary yet, for no letter and no
telegram arrived. This was the awful fact that greeted them when they
came in from the theatre.

"We'll wire the first thing to-morrow," declared John, in a resolute
tone. "Write yours to-night, Mary, and I'll give, them to the porter--"

"Oh, not mine, please," cried Mary, in shrinking bashfulness. "I can't
let the porter see mine!"

"Well, then, we'll take them out before breakfast to-morrow."

To this Mary agreed, and they sat down and wrote their dispatches.
While they were so engaged Laing jumped out of a cab and entered the
room. He seized an English paper, and, flinging himself into a chair,
began to study the sporting news. Presently he stole a glance at Mary.
It so chanced that just at the same moment she was stealing a glance at
him. Mary dropped her eyes with a blush; Laing withdrew behind his
paper.

"Shy, of course. Anybody would be," he thought, with a smile.

"Did you like the piece, Mary?" asked John.

"Oh, very much. I wish Aunt Sarah could have seen it. She missed so
much fun."

"Well, she could hardly have come with us, could she?" remarked John.

"Oh, no," said Mary.

"Well, I should rather thi