’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. She pulled herself together and put her eye to the eye-piece. Mrs. ’ Gerald looked round. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. "We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. "Your son is a lad of spirit, Mr.
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