stick.

"The Embankment--Thames," he said to the cabman, with a strong foreign
accent.

"Right, sir," replied the man, in the purest cockney.

As soon as the trap was shut down above her head Hermione exclaimed:

"Emile, I'm so happy, so--so happy! I think you must understand why now.
You don't wonder any more, do you?"

"No, I don't wonder. But did I ever express any wonder?"

"I think you felt some. But I knew when you saw him it would go. He's got
one beautiful quality that's very rare in these days, I think--reverence.
I love that in him. He really reverences everything that is fine, every
one who has fine and noble aspirations and powers. He reverences you."

"If that is the case he shows very little insight."

"Don't abuse yourself to me to-night. There's nothing the matter now, is
there?"

Her intonation demanded a negative, but Artois did not hasten to give it.
Instead he turned the conversation once more to Delarey.

"Tell me something more about him," he said. "What sort of family does he
come from?"

"Oh, a very ordinary family, well off, but not what is called specially
well-born. His father has a large shipping business. He's a cultivated
man, and went to Eton and Oxford, as Maurice did. Maurice's mother is
very handsome, not at all intellectual, but fascinating. The Southern
blood comes from her side."

"Oh--how?"

"Her mother was a Sicilian."

"Of the aristocracy, or of the people?"

"She was a lovely contadina. But what does it matter? I am not marrying
Maurice's grandmother."

"How do you know that?"

"You mean that our ancestors live in us. Well, I can't bother. If Maurice
were a crossing-sweeper, and his grandmother had been an evilly disposed
charwoman, who could never get any one to trust her to char, I'd marry
him to-morrow if he'd have me."

"I'm quite sure you would."

"Besides, probably the grandmother was a delicious old dear. But didn't
you like Maurice, Emile? I felt so sure you did."

"I--yes, I liked him. I see his fascination. It is almost absurdly
obvious, and yet it is quite natural. He is handsome and he is charming."

"And he's good, too."

"Why not? He does not look evil. I thought of him as a Mercury."

"The messenger of the gods--yes, he is like that."

She laid her hand on his arm, as if her happiness and longing for
sympathy in it impelled her to draw very near to a human being.

"A bearer of good tidings--that is what he has been to me. I want you