"Nonsense!"

"Yes. Mr. Ellerton--who--who is your friend?"

"Her name's Mary Travers."

"And who is she going--to marry?"

"Ah! She hasn't told me that."

A suspicion of the truth struck them both. Charlie produced his letter.

"She writes," he said, showing the postmark, "from Dittington."

"It is! It is!" she cried. "It must be Mary Travers that Mr. Ashforth is going to marry!"

"Is that your friend?"

"Yes. Is she pretty, Mr. Ellerton?"

"Oh, awfully. What sort of a fellow is he?"

"Splendid!"

"Isn't it a deuced queer thing?"

"Most extraordinary. And when we told one another we never thought----."

"How could we?"

"Well, no, we couldn't, of course."

A pause followed. Then Charlie observed: "I suppose there's nothing to be done."

"Nothing to be done, Mr. Ellerton! Why if I were a man I'd leave for England tonight."

"And why can't you?"

"Papa won't. But you might."

"Ye--es, I suppose I might. It would look rather odd, wouldn't it?"

"Why, you yourself suggested it!"

"Yes, but the marriage was a long way off then."

"There's the more reason now for haste."

"Of course, that's true, but----."

"Oh, if papa would only take me!" A sudden idea seemed to strike Charlie; he a.s.sumed an air of chivalrous sympathy. "When shall you go?"

he asked. "Not till to-day week," she said. "We shan't get to England till three or four days before it." Dora knew nothing of the proposed stay in Paris.

"Look here, Miss Bellairs," said Charlie, "we agreed to stand by one another. I shall wait and go when you do."

"But think----."

"I've thought."

"You're risking everything."

"If she'll break it off ten days before, she'll do the same four days before."

"If she really loves you she will."

"Anyhow we'll stand or fall together."

"Oh, I oughtn't to let you, but I can't refuse. How kind you are!"

"Then that's settled," said Charlie, "And we must try to console one another till then."

"The suspense is awful, isn't it?"

"Of course. But we must appear cheerful. We mustn't betray ourselves."

"Not for the world! I can never thank you enough. You'll come with us all the way?"

"Yes."

"Thank you again."

She gave him her hand, which he pressed gently.

"Hullo!" said he. "We seem to have got up by the church somewhere.

Where were we going to?"

"Why, to Rumpelmayer's."

"Oh, ah! Well, let's go back to the hotel."

Wonderings on the extraordinary coincidence, with an occasional reference to the tender tie of a common sorrow which bound them together, beguiled the journey back, and when they reached the hotel Dora was quite calm. Charlie seemed distinctly cheerful, and when his companion left him he sat down by Deane and remarked in a careless way, just as if he neither knew nor cared what the rest of them were going to do, "Well, I shall light out of here in a few days. I suppose you're staying some time longer?"

"Off in a week," said Sir Roger.

"Oh, by Jove, that's about my mark. Going back to England?"

"Yes, I suppose--so--ultimately. We shall stay a few days in Paris en route. The Bellairs' go with us."

"Oh, do they?"