fter the Flood. Prince's real name is Huzzle, and his father kept a boot
shop. I don't care a hang, because he's a gentleman, but they would."

"But yet you're going to marry him. They must know sooner or later. They
ought to know."

"Time enough when I'm married. Then nothing can be done and nothing can be
said."

"Have you ever thought whether it wouldn't be well to give him up?" said
Septimus, in his hesitating way.

"I can't, I can't!" she cried. Then she burst into tears, and, afraid lest
Zora should surprise her, left the room without another word.

On such occasions the most experienced man is helpless. He shrugs his
shoulders, says "Whew!" and lights a cigarette. Septimus, with an infant's
knowledge of the ways of young women, felt terribly distressed by the
tragedy of her tears. Something must be done to stop them. He might start
at once for Naples, and, by the help of strong gendarmes whom he might
suborn, bring back Mordaunt Prince presently to London. Then he remembered
his overdrawn banking account, and sighfully gave up the idea. If only he
were not bound to secrecy and could confide in Zora. This a sensitive honor
forbade. What could he do? As the fire was getting low he mechanically put
on a lump of coal with the pincers. When Zora returned with the atlas she
found him rubbing them through his hair, and staring at vacancy.

"If I do go round the world," said Zora, a little while later, when they
had settled on which side of South America Valparaiso was situated--and how
many nice and clever people could tell you positively, offhand?--"if I go
round the world, you and Emmy will have to come too. It would do her good.
She has not been looking well lately."

"It would be the very thing for her," said he.

"And for you too, Septimus," she remarked, with a quizzical glance and
smile.

"It's always good for me to be where you are."

"I was thinking of Emmy and not of myself," she laughed. "If you could take
care of her, it would be an excellent thing for you."

"She wouldn't even trust me with her luggage," said Septimus, miles away
from Zora's meaning. "Would you?"

She laughed again. "I'm different. I should really have to look after the
two of you. But you could pretend to be taking care of Emmy."

"I would do anything that gave you pleasure."

"Would you?" she asked.

They were sitting by the table--the atlas between them. She moved her hand
and touched his. The light of the lamp shone thr