Father Stafford. Anthony Hope

allowed him to see that, to her thinking, the relations between the engaged pair were of a character to inspire in the mind of another aspirant hope rather than despair.

      Having reached this conclusion, Haddington recognized that his first step must be to put Miss Bernard in touch with the position of affairs. It may seem a delicate matter to hint to your host's fiancée that if she, on mature reflection, likes you better than him, there is still time; but Haddington was not afflicted with delicacy. After all, in such a case a great deal depends upon the lady, and Haddington, though doubtful how Kate would regard a direct proposal to break off her engagement, was yet tolerably confident that she would not betray him to Eugene.

      He found her seated on the terrace that was the usual haunt of the ladies in the forenoon and the scene of Eugene's dutiful labors as reader-aloud. Kate was not looking amiable; and scarce six feet from her there lay open on the ground a copy of the Laureate's works.

      "I hope I'm not disturbing you, Miss Bernard?"

      "Oh, no. You see, I am alone. Mr. Lane was here just now, but he's gone."

      "How's that?" asked Haddington, seating himself.

      "He got a telegram, read it, flung his book away, and rushed off."

      "Did he say what it was about?"

      "No; I didn't ask him."

      A pause ensued. It was a little difficult to make a start.

      "And so you are alone?"

      "Yes, as you see."

      "I am alone too. Shall we console one another?"

      "I don't want consolation, thanks," said Kate, a little ungraciously. "But," she added more kindly, "you know I'm always glad of your company."

      "I wish I could think so."

      "Why don't you think so?"

      "Well, Miss Bernard, engaged people are generally rather indifferent to the rest of the world.

      "Even to telegrams?"

      "Ah! poor Lane!"

      "I don't think Mr. Lane is in much need of pity."

      "No—rather of envy."

      Kate did not look displeased.

      "Still, a man is to be pitied if he does not appreciate—"

      "Mr. Haddington!"

      "I beg your pardon. I ought not to have said that. But it is hard—there, I am offending you again!"

      "Yes, you must not talk like that. It's wrong; it would be wrong even if you meant it."

      "Do you think I don't mean it?"

      "That would be very discreditable—but not so bad."

      "You know I mean it," he said, in a low voice. "God knows I would have said nothing if—"

      "If what?"

      "I shall offend you more than ever. But how can I stand by and see that?" and Haddington pointed with fine scorn to the neglected book.

      Kate was not agitated. She seldom was. In a tone of grave rebuke, she said:

      "You must never speak like this again. I thought I saw something of it. ["Good!" thought Haddington.] But whatever may be my lot, I am now bound to it. Pledges are not to be broken."

      "Are they not being virtually broken?" he asked, growing bolder as he saw she listened to him.

      Kate rose.

      "You are not angry?"

      "I cannot be angry if it is as you say. But please understand I cannot listen. It is not honorable. No—don't say anything else. But you must go away."

      Haddington made no further effort to step her. He was well content. When a lady hears you hint that her betrothed is less devoted than you would be in his place, and merely says the giving of such a hint is wrong, it may be taken that her sole objection to it is on the score of morality; and it is to be feared that objections based on this ground are not the most efficacious in checking forward lovers. Perhaps Miss Bernard thought they were. Haddington didn't believe she did.

      "Go away?" he said to himself. "Hardly! The play is just beginning. Little Lady Claudia wasn't far out."

      It is very possible she was not far out in her estimation of Mr. Haddington's character, as well as in her forecast of his prospects. But the fruits of her shrewdness on this point were happily hid from the gentleman concerned.