"Miss Lucy," he cried across the table to her, "I have a piece of news."
She looked up, pale, with steady eyes, questioning him.
"I am going abroad to-morrow."
"Oh, where are you going?" cried Fanny, vaguely mystified.
"I am going to Africa."
He did not move his eyes from Lucy as he spoke; her head had drooped over her plate. "They are sending me out as special from The Woodcut, in the place of poor Leadpoint, who has died of fever. I heard the first of it last night, and this morning it was finally settled. It makes," cried Frank, "an immense difference in my prospects."
Edward Marsh, who objected to Frank as a spoilt puppy, always expecting other people to be interested in his affairs, asked the young man bluntly the value of his appointment. But he met with no reply; for Frank, his face alight, had sprung to his feet, pushing back his chair.
"Lucy, Lucy," he cried in a low voice, "won't you come and speak to me?"
Lucy rose like one mesmerised; took, with a presence of mind at which she afterwards laughed, the key of the studio from its nail, and followed Frank from the room, amidst the stupefaction of the rest of the party.