be amiable, and make me feel at home?"

"I do apologize if I have been unamiable," I said, with great frankness.
"Mrs. Carruthers always brought me up to have such good manners."

After that he talked to me for half an hour about the place.

He seemed to have forgotten his vehemence of the night before. He asked
all sorts of questions, and showed a sentiment and a delicacy I should not
have expected from his hard face. I was quite sorry when the gong sounded
for luncheon and we went in.

I have no settled plan in my head. I seem to be drifting--tasting for the
first time some power over another human being. It gave me delicious
thrills to see his eagerness when contrasted with the dry refusal of my
hand only the day before.

At lunch I addressed myself to Mr. Barton; he was too flattered at my
attention, and continued to chatter garrulously.

The rain came on and poured and beat against the window-panes with a
sudden, angry thud. No chance of further walks abroad. I escaped up-stairs
while the butler was speaking to Mr. Carruthers, and began helping
Véronique to pack. Chaos and desolation it all seemed in my cosey rooms.

While I was on my knees in front of a great wooden box, hopelessly trying
to stow away books, a crisp tap came to the door, and without more ado my
host--yes, he is that now--entered the room.

"Good Lord! what is all this?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing?"