upon him that bright, straightforward look with which she met every statement of fact. "Ending? Why, you are not going away?"
"Yes; I am off with the Stickneys early to-morrow morning."
"In the Urania? You are in luck! But why didn't you tell us before?"
"I couldn't bear to speak of it," he averred, and at the moment he almost believed he was speaking the truth. "It costs me too much to go away."
"Well, I don't wonder," May declared; "there's nothing like Venice. Still, you live abroad half the time, and can come here whenever you please."
"Ah, Miss May!" he exclaimed, and this time he was absolutely sincere. "Venice will never be the same to me again."
She could not altogether misunderstand his meaning, but it was impossible to take him very seriously, and, prompted by a not too lively curiosity, she asked: "Then why do you go?"
