"Pooh!" mimicked Miss Bareaud. "You can `pooh' as much as you like, but
if he had seen us from the window--" She covered her face with her hands
for a moment, then dropped them and smiled upon him. "I understand
perfectly to what I owe the pleasure of a stroll with you this morning,
and your casual insistence on the shadiness of Carewe Street!" He laughed
nervously, but her smile vanished, and she continued, "Keep away, Tom.
She is beautiful, and at St. Mary's I always thought she had spirit and
wit, too. I only hope Crailey won't see her before the wedding! But it
isn't safe for you. Go along, now, and ask Crailey please to come at
three this afternoon."

This message from Mr. Gray's betrothed was not all the ill-starred Tom
conveyed to his friend. Mr. Vanrevel was ordinarily esteemed a person of
great reserve and discretion; nevertheless there was one man to whom he
told everything, and from whom he had no secrets. He spent the noon hour
in feeble attempts to describe to Crailey Gray the outward appearance of
Miss Elizabeth Carewe; how she ran like a young Diana; what one felt upon
hearing her voice; and he presented in himself an example exhibiting
something of the cost of looking in her eyes. His conversation was more
or less incoherent, but the effect of it was complete.



Chapter II

Surviving Evils of the Reign of Terror

Does there exist an incredulous, or jealous, denizen of another portion of
our country who, knowing that the room in the wooden cupola over Mr.