CHAPTER XI.

"Truth may perhaps come to the price of a pearl that showeth best by day, but it will not rise to the price of a diamond or carbuncle that showeth best in varied lights. A mixture of a lie doth ever add pleasure. Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken out of men's minds vain opinions, flattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one would, and the like; but it would leave the minds of a number of men, poor shrunken things, full of melancholy and indisposition and unpleasing to themselves."-Bacon.

"It's the most unaccountable proceeding I ever remember to have heard of. Disappear in broad daylight, without ever giving notice to anybody, leaving one in such suspense; and then a newspaper paragraph like this informs one of his whereabouts! Do let me see that Beacon, Mr. Hogan. Are you sure it is he?”

The speaker, Mrs. Bursford, who was seated in her easy-chair, stretched out her hand for the newspaper which Mr. Hogan had just brought in.

"Where is it? Oh yes:- Mr. Saltasche has had an interview with Signor Minghetti, and

has quitted Naples en route for Vienna.' Well, well, it must be he: and what has he been doing in Naples?'

"Or what is he going to do in Vienna ?" said Hogan, laughing. "That gives me very little concern, so that he reappears here, I can assure you. What a fright I did get, to be sure! You know our friend Mr. Bruen went over to Dublin one night to see Miss Saltasche. She laughed at his fears, but at the same time could give him no information. They knew nothing about him at his office at all. At the same time, neither Johns, his clerk, nor Miss Saltasche seemed to care in the least, or attach any importance to his disappearance."

"Elizabeth Saltasche knows him better,' said Mrs. Bursford drowsily. "How fearfully warm it is, to be sure!"

Miss Diana was leaning back in her chair, fanning herself with a blue and gold fan. "Fearfully warm!" she echoed.

"Just allow me," said Hogan, taking the fan from her. "How I should have enjoyed this last night in the House! Is it not awful to keep us in town this way? It will soon be over now, thank goodness!

Diana smiled faintly, half closing her eyes under the vigorous breeze of the fan. She was not by any means in a hurry to leave London. She had now been there nearly four months, engaged in the struggle, and success had not as yet crowned her efforts. All her forces had been drawn up, and she had been sitting round the fortress, which had as yet given no tangible sign of surrender. Saltasche had deserted for the nonce; but he was to return, and she hoped to press him into the service for the final attack, ere the rising of Parliament should necessitate a retreat.

"How long have you to suffer now?" she asked, in the faintest die-away tone.

"Hum-another fortnight, I daresay, will see me nearly out of it. I'll go to Scotland, I think, for a few weeks. When do you mean to go? or do you remain till the end of the session?'

"We're going to Devonshire, to some friends near Exeter. After that, we thought of Blankenberg or Trouville for a while."

"Ah! Lady Brayhead is at some of those places now. By-the-bye, I met your cousin Miss Braginton in Regent Street yesterday. I

was speaking to her. She said she would be here shortly to see you. She is staying with Mr. John Braddell, the member for Blankstown."

"I knew she was in London," said Diana coldly. "Indeed, mamma, did I not say at the Academy the other day that I was sure I had a glimpse of her in the crowd? I wonder when she will be here."

"You were at the Academy, then? Did you look at the picture I recommended you to? Whom did it remind you of?"

Mrs. Bursford was gone out of the room. The door and windows stood wide open, and a pleasant current of air came from the balconies, which linen awnings kept fresh and cool for the flowers. Hogan felt more disposed than usual to-day for an æsthetic flirtation. The weight of anxiety had been removed by Saltasche's telegram to the Beacon; and although some things had gone seriously wrong in the City, he trusted that the return of their leader would set matters right again. So he disposed himself comfortably in the cool chaiselongue-thinking that an hour's pleasant, if idle conversation, would do no harm.

"I could not fancy. The portrait of Miss Babillon, the actress, do you mean?" said Miss Bursford, in reply to his question.

"No: Enid. Don't you remember Enid— that scene we were reading? Where is the Tennyson?"

Now,

He rose and fetched a large illustrated Tennyson from a side-table. Of course, from the special passage it was easy to digress to various others. Diana opportunely recollected several bits she "did not understand." for two people to read out of a book it is absolutely necessary that they should sit not merely on a straight line with each other, but close together. Diana was really looking very well and even pretty that day. Warm weather suited her; and under its influence the wintry tints of her complexion had disappeared. A charming dress of silver-grey and blue silk set off her golden hair to perfection; and of course it was merely to hold the great awkward Tennyson that Mr. Hogan turned round that unfortunate chair of his in such a way that both their backs were turned to the drawingroom door. So it was, anyhow. And the explanations had barely lasted a short twenty