" Well," said Mrs. Wainwright, sullen and ominous, " time will tell! Time will tell!"
When Coleman bad turned from the fleeing Peter Tounley again to Marjory, he found her making the preliminary movements of a flight. "What's the matter? " he demanded anxiously.
" Oh, it's too dreadful"
" Nonsense," lie retorted stoutly. " Only Peter
Tounley! He don't count. What of that ? "
' Oh, dear! " She pressed her palm to a burning cheek. She gave him a star-like, beseeching glance. Let me go now-please."
" Well," he answered, somewhat affronted, " if you like—"
At the door she turned to look at him, and this glance expressed in its elusive way a score of things which she had not yet been able to speak. It explained that she was loth to leave him, that she asked forgiveness for leaving him, that even for a short absence she wished to take his image in her eyes, that he must not bully her, that there was something now in her heart which frightened her, that she loved him, that she was happy—-
When she had gone, Coleman went to the rooms of the American minister. A Greek was there who talked wildly as he waved his cigarette. Coleman waited in well-concealed impatience for the dvapora- tion of this man. Once the minister, regarding the correspondent hurriedly, interpolated a comment. " You look very cheerful ? "
" Yes," answered Coleman, " I've been taking your advice."
" Oh, ho ! " said the minister.