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"Who is it?" "He didn't give his name, Sir," replied the maid; "but he's a young gentleman. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. ” “To a friend?” “To lodgings—alone. ‘Can you not open it?’ she cried. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. The lady reseated herself, watching him expectantly. " "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron. Again he rushed. I don't want her hurt. I will not be persecuted in this way by you. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. CHAPTER II. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. I never made any effort to touch them; so by and by they learned to light fearlessly on my arms and shoulders.

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