nk it's the prettiest thing in London," said the Dean,
"one of the prettiest things in the world."

"Don't you find it very cold?" said Lord George, who did not at the
present moment care very much for the fine arts.

"We have been walking quick," said Mrs. Houghton, "and have enjoyed
it." The Dean with the two others had now passed round one of the
corners. "I wonder," she went on, "I do wonder how it has come to pass
that we should be brought together again so soon!"

"We both happened to come the same way," said Lord George, who was
still thinking of his wife.

"Yes;--that must have been it. Though is it not a strange coincidence?
My mind had been so flurried that I was glad to get out into the fresh
air. When shall I see you again?" He couldn't bring himself to
say--never. There would have been a mock-tragic element about the
single word which even he felt. And yet, here on the steps of the
monument, there was hardly an opportunity for him to explain at length
the propriety of their both agreeing to be severed. "You wish to see
me;--don't you?" she asked.

"I hardly know what to say."

"But you love me!" She was now close to him, and there was no one else
near enough to interfere. She was pressing close up to him, and he was
sadly ashamed of himself. And yet he did love her. He thought that she
had never looked so well as at the present moment. "Say that you love
me," she said, stamping her foot almost imperiously.

"You know I do, but--"

"But what."

"I had better come to you again and tell you all." The words were no
sooner out of his mouth than he remembered that he had resolved that he
would never go to her again. But yet, after what had passed, something
must be done. He had also made up his mind that he wouldn't write. He
had quite made up his mind about that. The words that are written
remain. It would perhaps be better that he should go to her and tell
her everything.

"Of course you will come again," she said. "What is it ails you? You
are unhappy because she is here with my cousin Jack?" It was
intolerable to him that any one should suspect him of jealousy. "Jack
has a way of getting intimate with people, but it means nothing." It
was dreadful to him that an allusion should be made to the possibility
of anybody "meaning anything" with his wife.

Just at this moment Jack's voice was heard coming back round the
corner, and also the laughter of the Dean. Captain De Baron had been
describing th