surer than other women that it is the very jewel of love she is
setting in her heart, and not a sparkling imitation. I gave myself

wholly, or believed that I gave myself wholly, to art, or what I
believed to be art. And is there anything more sacred than art?--

Yes, one thing!
It happened something in this wise.

The singing had put us in a gentle mood, and after a long peroration
from Mr. Beresford, which I do not care to repeat, I said very

softly (blessing the Honourable Arthur's vociferous laughter at one
of Salemina's American jokes), "But I thought perhaps it was

Francesca. Are you quite sure?"
He intimated that if there were any fact in his repertory of which

he was particularly and absolutely sure it was this special fact.
"It is too sudden," I objected. "Plants that blossom on shipboard-"

"This plant was rooted in American earth, and you know it, Penelope.
If it chanced to blossom on the ship, it was because it had already

budded on the shore; it has borne transplanting to a foreign soil,
and it grows in beauty and strength every day: so no slurs, please,

concerning ocean-steamer hothouses."
"I cannot say yes, yet I dare not say no; it is too soon. I must go

off into the country quite by myself and think it over."
"But," urged Mr. Beresford, "you cannot think over a matter of this

kind by yourself. You'll continually be needing to refer to me for
data, don't you know, on which to base your conclusions. How can

you tell whether you're in love with me or not if- (No, I am not
shouting at all; it's your guiltyconscience; I'm whispering.) How

can you tell whether you're in love with me, I repeat, unless you
keep me under constant examination?"

"That seems sensible, though I dare say it is full of sophistry; but
I have made up my mind to go into the country and paint while

Salemina and Francesca are on the Continent. One cannot think in
this whirl. A winter season in Washington followed by a summer

season in London,--one wants a breath of fresh air before beginning
another winter season somewhere else. Be a little patient, please.

I long for the calm that steals over me when I am absorbed in my
brushes and my oils."

"Work is all very well," said Mr. Beresford with determination, "but
I know your habits. You have a little way of taking your brush, and

with one savage sweep painting out a figure from your canvas. Now
if I am on the canvas of your heart,--I say 'if' tentatively and

modestly, as becomes me,--I've no intention of allowing you to paint
me out; therefore I wish to remain in the foreground, where I can

say 'Strike, but hear me,' if I discover any hostile tendencies in
your eye. But I am thankful for small favours (the 'no' you do not

quite dare say, for instance), and I'll talk it over with you to-
morrow, if the British gentry will give me an opportunity, and if

you'll deign to give me a moment alone in any other place than the
Royal Academy."

"I was alone with you to-day for a whole hour at least."
"Yes, first at the London and Westminster Bank, second in Trafalgar

Square, and third on the top of a 'bus, none of them congenial spots
to a man in my humour. Penelope, you are not dull, but you don't

seem to understand that I am head over-"
"What are you two people quarrelling about?" cried Salemina. "Come,

Penelope, get your wrap. Mrs. Beresford, isn't she charming in her
new Liberty gown? If that New York wit had seen her, he couldn't

have said, 'If that is Liberty, give me Death!' Yes, Francesca, you
must wear something over your shoulders. Whistle for two four-

wheelers, Dawson, please."
Part Second--In the country.

Chapter XV. Penelope dreams.
West Belvern, Holly House

August 189-.
I am here alone. Salemina has taken her little cloth bag and her

notebook and gone to inspect the educational and industrial methods
of Germany. If she can discover anything that they are not already

doing better in Boston, she will take it back with her, but her
state of mind regarding the outcome of the trip might be described

as one of incredulity tinged with hope. Francesca has accompanied
Salemina. Not that the inspection of systems is much in her line,

but she prefers it to a solitude a deux with me when I am in a
working mood, and she comforts herself with the anticipation that

the German army is very attractive. Willie Beresford has gone with
his mother to Aix-les-Bains, like the dutiful son that he is. They

say that a good son makes a good- But that subject is dismissed to
the background for the present, for we are in a state of armed

neutrality. He has agreed to wait until the autumn for a final
answer, and I have promised to furnish one by that time. Meanwhile,

we are to continue our acquaintance by post, which is a concession I
would never have allowed if I had had my wits about me.

After paying my last week's bill in Dovermarle Street, including
fees to several servants whom I knew by sight, and several others

whose acquaintance I made for the first time at the moment of
departure, I glanced at my ebbing letter of credit and felt a season

of economysetting in upon me with unusualseverity; accordingly, I
made an experiment of coming third-class to Belvern. I handed the

guard a shilling, and he gave me a seat riding backwards in a
carriage with seven other women, all very frumpish, but highly

respectable. As he could not possibly have done any worse for me, I
take it that he considered the shilling a gracefultribute to his

personal charms, but as having no other bearingwhatever. The seven
women stared at me throughout the journey. When one is really of

the same blood, and when one does not open one's lips or wave the
stars and stripes in any possible manner, how do they detect the

American? These women looked at me as if I were a highly
interesting anthropoidal ape. It was not because of my attire, for

I was carefully dressed down to a third-class level; yet when I
removed my plain Knox hat and leaned my head back against my

travelling-pillow, an electricalshudder of intenseexcitement ran
through the entire compartment. When I stooped to tie my shoe

another current was set in motion, and when I took Charles Reade's
White Lies from my portmanteau they glanced at one another as if to

say, 'Would that we could see in what language the book is written!'
As a travelling mystery I reached my highest point at Oxford, for

there I purchased a small basket of plums from a boy who handed them
in at the window of the carriage. After eating a few, I offered the

rest to a dowdy elderly woman on my left who was munching dry
biscuits from a paper bag. 'What next?' was the facial expression

of the entire company. My neighbour accepted the plums, but hid
them in her bag; plainly thinking them poisoned, and believing me to

be a foreign conspirator, conspiring against England through the
medium of her inoffensive person. In the course of the four-hours'

journey, I could account for the strange impression I was making
only upon the theory that it is unusual to comport oneself in a

first-class manner in a third-class carriage. All my companions
chanced to be third-class by birth as well as by ticket, and the

Englishwoman who is born third-class is sometimes deficient in
imagination.

Upon arriving at Great Belvern (which must be pronounced 'Bevern') I
took a trap, had my luggage put on in front, and start on my quest

for lodgings in West Belvern, five miles distant. Several addresses
had been given me by Hilda Mellifica, who has spent much time in

this region, and who begged me to use her name. I told the driver
that I wished to find a clean, comfortable lodging, with the view

mentioned in the guide-book, and with a purple clematis over the
door, if possible. The last point astounded him to such a degree

that he had, I think, a serious idea of giving me into custody. (I
should not be so eccentrically spontaneous with these people, if

they did not feed my sense of humour by their amazement.)
We visited Holly House, Osborne, St. James, Victoria, and Albert

houses, Tank Villa, Poplar Villa, Rose, Brake, and Thorn Villas, as
well as Hawthorn, Gorse, Fern, Shrubbery, and Providence Cottages.

All had apartments, but many were taken, and many more had rooms
either dark and stuffy or without view. Holly House was my first