the usual laughter lurking in his glance, Emmeline would
have giggled. Her nerves were tensely strung, and giggling was her sole
expression for a wide range of emotion. But his gravity astonished her so
much that she looked at the page before her again, and went on playing
with her mouth open.

Toward the close of the lesson master and pupil exchanged a few whispered
words. "You may rely on me," said Bertie finally: "what did I promise this
morning?" He spoke cautiously, watching Miss Crawford. She moved in her
light slumber and uttered an inarticulate sound. The young people started
asunder and blushed a guilty red. Emmeline, with an unfounded assumption
of presence of mind, began to play a variation containing such loud and
agitated discords that further slumber must have been miraculous. But
Lisle interposed. "Gently," he said. "Let me show you how that should be
played." And he lulled the sleeper with the tenderest harmony.

In due time the lesson came to an end. Miss Crawford presided over the
farewell, and regretted that it was really Miss Nash's last lesson, as
(though Mr. Lisle perhaps was not aware of it) she was not coming back to
Standon Square. Mr. Lisle in his turn expressed much regret, and said that
he should miss his pupil. "You must on no account forget to practise every
day," said the old lady, turning to Emmeline.--"Must she, Mr. Lisle?"

Mr. Lisle hoped that Miss Nash would devote at least three hours every day
to her music. The falsehood was so audacious that he shuddered as he
uttered it. He made a ceremonious bow and fled.

[Illustration: "SHE WAS ASLEEP."--Page 426.]

Going back to Bellevue street, he locked himself into his room and turned
out all his worldly goods. A little portmanteau was carefully packed with
a selection from them, and hidden away in a cupboard, and the rest were
laid by as nearly as possible in their accustomed order. Then he took out
his purse and examined its contents with dissatisfied eyes. "Can't get on
without the sinews of war," Bertie soliloquized. "I might manage with
double as much perhaps, but how shall I get it? Spoiling the Egyptians
would be the scriptural course of conduct I suppose, and I'm ready; but
where are the Egyptians? I wonder if Judith keeps a hoard anywhere? Or
Lydia? Shall I go and ask her to lend me jewels of silver and jewels of
gold? Poor Lydia! I fear I could hardly find a plausible excuse for
borrowing the blue earrings. And I doubt they wou