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produced a great impression on Marian, who was accustomed to nothing better than small talk. She longed to interest him by her comments and questions, but she found that they had a most discouraging effect on him. Redoubling her efforts, she at last reduced him to silence, of which she availed herself to remark, with great earnestness, that science was a very wonderful thing.

      “How do you know?” he said, a little bluntly.

      “I am sure it must be,” she replied, brightening; for she thought he had now made a rather foolish remark. “Is Lord Carbury a very clever scientist?”

      Conolly looked just grave enough to suggest that the question was not altogether a discreet one. Then, brushing off that consideration, he replied:

      “He has seen a great deal and read a great deal. You see, he has great means at his disposal. His property is as good as a joint-stock company at his back. Practically, he is very good, considering his method of working: not so good, considering the means at his disposal.”

      “What would you do if you had his means?”

      Conolly made a gesture which plainly signified that he thought he could do a great many things.

      “And is science, then, so expensive? I thought it was beyond the reach of money.”

      “Oh, yes: science may be. But I am not a scientific man: I’m an inventor. The two things are quite different. Invention is the most expensive thing in the world. It takes no end of time, and no end of money. Time is money; so it costs both ways.”

      “Then why dont you discover something and make your fortune?”

      “I have already discovered something.”

      “Oh! What is it?”

      “That it costs a fortune to make experiments enough to lead to an invention.”

      “You are exaggerating, are you not? What do you mean by a fortune?”

      “In my case, at least four or five hundred pounds.”

      “Is that all? Surely you would have no difficulty in getting five hundred pounds.”

      Conolly laughed. “To be sure,” said he. “What is five hundred pounds?”

      “A mere nothing — considering the importance of the object. You really ought not to allow such a consideration as that to delay your career. I have known people spend as much in one day on the most worthless things.”

      “There is something in that, Miss Lind. How would you recommend me to begin?”

      “First,” said Marian, with determination, “make up your mind to spend the money. Banish all scruples about the largeness of the sum. Resolve not to grudge even twice as much to science.”

      “That is done already. I have quite made up my mind to spend the money.

       What next?”

      “Well, I suppose the next thing is to spend it.”

      “Excuse me. The next thing is to get it. It is a mere detail, I know; but I should like to settle it before we go any further.”

      “But how can I tell you that? You forget that I am quite unacquainted with your affairs. You are a man, and understand business, which of course I dont.”

      “If you wanted five hundred pounds, Miss Lind, how would you set about getting it? — if I may ask.”

      “What? I! But, as I say, I am only a woman. I should ask my father for it, or sign a receipt for my trustees, or something of that sort.”

      “That is a very simple plan. But unfortunately I have no father and no trustees. Worse than that, I have no money. You must suggest some other way.”

      “Do what everybody else does in your circumstances. Borrow it. I am sure

       Lord Carbury would lend it to you.”

      Conolly shook his head. “It doesnt do for a man in my position to start borrowing the moment he makes the acquaintance of a man in Lord Carbury’s,” he said. “We are working a little together already on one of my ideas, and that is as far as I care to ask him to go. I am afraid I must ask you for another suggestion.”

      “Save up all your money until you have enough.”

      “That would take some time. Let me see. As I am an exceptionally fortunate and specially skilled workman, I can now calculate on making from seventy shillings to six pounds a week. Say four pounds on the average.”

      “Ah,” said Marian, despondingly, “you would have to wait more than two years to save five hundred pounds.”

      “And to dispense with food, clothes, and lodging in the meantime.”

      “True,” said Marian. “Of course, I see that it is impossible for you to save anything. And yet it seems absurd to be stopped by the want of such a sum. I have a cousin who has no money at all, and no experiments to make, and he paid a thousand pounds for a racehorse last spring.”

      Conolly nodded, to intimate that he knew that such things happened.

      Marian could think of no further expedient. She stood still, thinking, whilst Conolly took up a bit of waste and polished a brass cylinder.

      “Mr. Conolly,” she said at last, “I cannot absolutely promise you; but I think I can get you five hundred pounds.” Conolly stopped polishing the cylinder, and stared at her. “If I have not enough, I am sure we could make the rest by a bazaar or something. I should like to begin to invest my money; and if you make some great invention, like the telegraph or steam engine, you will be able to pay it back to me, and to lend me money when I want it.”

      Conolly blushed. “Thank you, Miss Lind,” said he, “thank you very much indeed. I — It would be ungrateful of me to refuse; but I am not so ready to begin my experiments as my talking might lead you to suppose. My estimate of their cost was a mere guess. I am not satisfied that it is not want of time and perseverance more than of money that is the real obstacle. However, I will — I will — a —— Have you any idea of the value of money, Miss Lind? Have you ever had the handling of it?”

      “Of course,” said Marian, secretly thinking that the satisfaction of shaking his self-possession was cheap at five hundred pounds. “I keep house at home, and do all sorts of business things.”

      Conolly glanced about him vaguely; picked up the piece of waste again as if he had been looking for that; recollected himself; and looked unintelligibly at her. Her uncertainty as to what he would do next was a delightful sensation: why, she did not know nor care. To her intense disappointment, Lord Carbury entered just then, and roused her from what was unaccountably like a happy dream.

      Nothing more of any importance happened that day except the arrival of a letter from Paris, addressed to Lady Constance in Marmaduke’s handwriting. Miss McQuinch first heard of it in the fruit garden, where she found Constance sitting with her arm around Marian’s waist in a summer-house. She sat down opposite them, at a rough oak table.

      “A letter, Nelly!” said Marian. “A letter! A letter from Marmaduke! I have extorted leave for you to read it. Here it is. Handle it carefully, pray.”

      “Has he proposed?” said Elinor, taking it.

      Constance changed color. Elinor opened the letter in silence, and read:

      My dear Constance:

      I hope you are quite well. I am having an awfully jolly time of it here. What a pity it is you dont come over! I was wishing for you yesterday in the Louvre, where we spent a pleasant day looking at the pictures. I send you the silk you wanted, and had great trouble hunting through half-a-dozen shops for it. Not that I mind the trouble, but just to let you see my devotion to you. I have no more to say at present, as it is nearly post hour. Remember me to the clan.

      Yours ever,

      DUKE.

      P.S. — How

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