portmanteau, into which she crammed a few useless books and other
heavy things, to serve as make-weights for Miss Blake's injured
feelings.

"You'd better wait a quarter of an hour after we go to church," she
said, as the servant brought these necessaries into the room where
Bertram and Philip were seated. "By that time nearly all the
church-people will be safe in their seats; and Phil's conscience
will be satisfied. You can tell Miss Blake you've brought a little
of your luggage to do for to-day, and the rest will follow from
town to-morrow morning."

"Oh, how very kind you are!" Bertram exclaimed, looking down at her
gratefully. "I'm sure I don't know what I should ever have done in
this crisis without you."

He said it with a warmth which was certainly unconventional. Frida
coloured and looked embarrassed. There was no denying he was
certainly a most strange and untrammelled person.

"And if I might venture on a hint," Philip put in, with a hasty
glance at his companion's extremely unsabbatical costume, "it would
be that you shouldn't try to go out much to-day in that suit you're
wearing; it looks peculiar, don't you know, and might attract
attention."

"Oh, is that a taboo too?" the stranger put in quickly, with an
anxious air. "Now, that's awfully kind of you. But it's curious,
as well; for two or three people passed my window last night, all
Englishmen, as I judged, and all with suits almost exactly like