them?  Whom had she admitted into the little dell above the Geinig Pool which was her chosen and solitary retreat?  And he could not but reflect that while there were plenty of women who were eager to present him with silver cigarette-cases, blue and white flower-jars, and things of that kind, there was not one of them, as he believed, who would dip her little finger in a bottle of ink for his sake.  More than that, which of them would herself have dared ridicule in order to save him from ridicule?  And in what light should he regard this suddenly prompted action on her part, which seemed to him so bewildering at the time, but which she appeared to look on as only a sort of half-humorous freak of friendship?

These speculations only came back to the original question, or series of questions, that had already puzzled him.  Why should he set such store by her opinion?—­why be so anxious to please her?—­why be so proud to think that he had won some small share of favorable regard?  It was not his ordinary attitude towards women, who troubled him rather, and interfered with his many interests and the calls of his professional duties.  Falling in love?—­that could hardly be it; he felt no desire whatever to go down on his knees before her and swear by the eternal stars.  Besides, she was so far away from him—­living in such a different sphere—­among occupations and surroundings and traditions entirely apart from his.  Falling in love?—­with the isolated, the unapproachable fisher-maiden, the glance of whose calm hazel eyes would be death to any kind of theatrical sentiment?  It was all a confusion and a perplexity to him; but at least he was glad to know that he would sit at the same table with her that night at dinner, and, thereafter, perchance, have some opportunity of talking to her in the drawing-room, where a certain incident, known to themselves alone, would serve as a sort of secret tie.  And he was cheered to remember that, although he was leaving this still and beautiful neighborhood (where so many strange dreams and fancies and new and welcome experiences had befallen him), he was not bidding good-bye to all of these friends forever.  Miss Honnor Cunyngham would be in Brighton in November; and Brighton was not so far away from the great city and the dull, continuous, thunderous roar that would then be all around him.

CHAPTER XIII.

A NEW EXPERIENCE.

Was it possible in the nature of things that Prince Fortunatus should find his spirits dashed with gloom—­he whose existence had hitherto been a long series of golden moments, each brighter and more welcome than the other; Even if he had to leave this still and beautiful valley where he had found so much gracious companionship and so many pleasant pursuits, look what was before him; he was returning to be greeted with the applause of enthusiastic audiences, to be sought after and courted and petted in private circles, to find himself talked about in the newspapers, and his portraits exhibited in every other shop-window—­in short, to enjoy all the little flatteries and attentions and triumphs attaching to a wide and not ill-deserved popularity.  And yet as he sat at this farewell luncheon on the day of his departure, he was the only silent one among these friends of his, who were all chattering around him.