of　silver　and　glass　in　the　dining　room。　For　a　moment　the　dragoman　seemed　really　astounded　out　of　specch。　Then　he　plunged　into　the　manager's　room。　Was　it　conceivable　that　Monsieur　Coleman　was　still　at　luncheon？　Yes；　in　fact；　it　was　true。　But　the　carriage；　was　at　the　door！　The　carriage　was　at　the　door！　The　manager；　　undisturbed；　asked　for　what　hour　Monsieur　Coleman　had　been　pleased　to　order　a　carriage。　Three　o'clock　！　Three　o'clock？　The　manager　pointed　calmly　at　the　clock。　Very　well。　It　was　now　only　thirteen　minutes　of　three　o'clock。　Monsieur　Coleman　doubtless　would　appear　at　three。　Until　that　hour　the　manager　would　not　disturb　Monsieur　Coleman。　The　dragoman　clutched　both　his　hands　in　his　hair　and　cast　a　look　of　agony　to　the　ceiling。　Great　God！　Had　he　accomplished　　the　herculean　task　of　getting　a　carriage　for　four　people　to　the　door　of　the　hotel　in　time　for　a　drive　at　three　o'clock；　only　to　meet　with　this　stoniness；　this　inhumanity？　Ah；　it　was　unendurable？　He　begged　the　manager；　he　implored　him。　But　at　every　word。　the　manager　seemed　to　grow　more　indifferent；　more　callous。　He　pointed　with　a　wooden　finger　at　the　clock…face。　In　reality；　it　is　thus；　that　Greek　meets　Greek。
  Professor　Wainwright　and　Coleman　strolled　together　out　of　the　dining　room。　The　dragoman　rushed　ecstatically　upon　the　correspondent。　〃　Oh；　Meester　Coleman！　The　carge　is　ready　！〃
  〃Well；　all　right；〃　said　Coleman；　knocking　ashes　from　his　cigar。　〃Don't　be　in　a　hurry。　I　suppose　we'll　be　ready；　presently。〃　The　man　was　in　despair。
  The　departure　of　the　Wainwrights　and　Coleman　on　this　ordinary　drive　was　of　a　somewhat　dramatic　and　public　nature；　No　one　seemed　to　know　how　to　prevent　its　being　so。　In　the　first　place；　the　attendants　thronged　out　en　masse　for　a　reason　which　was　plain　at　the　time　only　to　Coleman's　dragoman。　And；　rather　in　the　background；　lurked　the　interested　students。　The　professor　was　surprised　and　nervous。　Coleman　was　rigid　and　angry。　Marjory　was　flushed　and　some　what　hurried；　and　Mrs。　Wainwright　was　as　proud　as　an　old　turkey…hen。
  As　the　carriage　rolled　away；　Peter　Tounley　turned　to　his　companions　and　said：　〃　Now；　that's　official！　That　is　the　official　announcement！　Did　you　see　Old　Mother　Wainwright？　Oh；　my　eye；　wasn't　she　puffed　up　！　Say；　what　in　hell　do　you　suppose　all　these　jay　hawking　bell…boys　poured　out　to　the　kerb　for？　Go　back　to　your　cages；　my　good　people…〃
  As　soon　as　the　carriage　wheeled　into　another　street；　its　occupants　exchanged　easier　smiles；　and　they　must　have　confessed　in　some　subtle　way　of　glances　that　now　at　last　they　were　upon　their　own　mission；　a　mission　undefined　but　earnest　to　them　all。　Coleman　had　a　glad　feeling　of　being　let　into　the　family；　or　becoming　one　of　them
  The　professor　looked　sideways　at　him　and　smiled　gently。　〃　You　know；　I　thought　of　driving　you　to　some　ruins；　but　Marjory　would　not　have　it。　She　flatly　objected　to　any　more　ruins。　So　I　thought　we　would　drive　down　to　New　Phalerum。〃　Coleman　nodded　and　smiled　as　if　he　were　immensely　pleased；　but　of　course　New　Phalerum　was　to　him　no　more　nor…less　than　Vladivostok　or　Khartoum。　Neither　place　nor　distance　had　interest　for　him。　They　swept　along　a　shaded　avenue　where　the　dust　lay　thick　on　the　leaves；　they　passed　cafes　where　crowds　were　angrily　shouting　over　the　news　in　the　little　papers；　they　passed　a　hospital　before　which　wounded　men；　white　with　bandages；　were　taking　the　sun；　then　came　soon　to　the　and　valley　flanked　by　gaunt　naked　mountains；　which　would　lead　them　to　the　sea。　Sometimes　to　accentuate　the　dry　nakedness　of　this　valley；　there　would　be　a　patch　of　grass　upon　which　poppies　burned　crimson　spots。　The　dust　writhed　out　from　under　the　wheels　of　the　carriage；　in　the　distance　the　sea　appeared；　a　blue　half…disc　set　between　shoulders　of　barren　land。　It　would　be　common　to　say　that　Coleman　　was　oblivious　to　all　about　him　but　Marjory。　On　the　contrary；　the　parched　land；　the　isolated　flame　of　poppies；　the　cool　air　from　the　sea；　all　were　keenly　known　to　him；　and　they　had　developed　an　extraordinary　power　of　blending　sympathetically　into　his　mood。　Meanwhile　the　professor　talked　a　great　deal。　And　as　a　somewhat　exhilarating　detail；　Coleman　perceived　that　Ms。　Wainwright　was　beaming　upon　him。
  At　New　Phalerum…a　small　collection　of　pale　square　villas…they　left　the　carriage　and　strolled；　by　the　sea。　The　waves　were　snarling　together　like　wolves　amid　the　honeycomb　rocks　and　from　where　the　blue　plane　sprang　level　to　the　horizon；　came　a　strong　cold　breeze；　the　kind　of　a　breeze　which　moves　an　exulting　man　or　a　parson　to　take　off　his　hat　and　let　his　locks　flutter　and　tug　back　from　his　brow。
  The　professor　and　Mrs。　Wainwright　were　left　to　themselves。
  Marjory　and　Coleman　did　not　speak　for　a　time。　It　might　have　been　that　they　did　not　quite　know　where　to　make　a　beginning。　　At　last　Marjory　asked：　〃What　has　become　of　your　splendid　horse？〃
  〃Oh；　I've　told　the　dragoman　to　have　him　sold　as　soon　as　he　arrives；〃　said　Coleman　absently。
  〃　Oh。　I'm　sorry　　*　*　I　liked　that　horse。〃
  〃Why？　〃
  〃Oh；　because…〃
  〃Well；　he　was　a　fine…〃　Then　he；　too；　interrupted　　himself；　for　he　saw　plainly　that　they　had　not　come　to　this　place　to　talk　about　a　horse。　Thereat　he　made　speech　of　matters　which　at　least　did　not　afford　as　many　opportunities　for　coherency　as　would　the　horse。　Marjory；　it　can't　be　true　*　*　*　Is　it　true；　dearest　*　*　I　can　hardly　believe　it。　…I…〃
  〃　Oh；　I　know　I'm　not　nearly　good　enough　for　you。〃
  〃　Good　enough　for　me；　dear？
  〃　They　all　told　me　so；　and　they　were　right　！　Why；　even　the　American　minister　said　it。　Everybody　thinks　it。〃
  〃Why；　aren　't　they　wretches　To　think　of　them　saying　such　a　thing！　As　if…as　if　anybody　could　be　too〃
  〃　Do　you　know…〃　She　paused　and　looked　at　him　with　a　certain　timid　challenge。　〃　I　don't　know　why　I　feel　it；　but…sometimes　I　feel　that　I've　been　I've　been　flung　at　your　head。〃
  He　opened　his　mouth　in　astonishment。　〃　Flung　at　my　head！
  She　held　up　her　finger。　〃And　if　I　thought　you　could　ever　believe　it　！　〃
  〃　Is　a　girl　flung　at　a　man's　head　when　her　father　carries　her　thousands　of　miles　away　and　the　man　　follows　her　all　these　miles；　and　at　last…〃
  〃　Her　eyes　were　shining。　〃And　you　really　came　to　Greece…on　purpose　to…to…〃
  〃　Confess　you　knew　it　all　the　time！　Confess！〃　The　answer　was　muffled。　〃　Well；　sometimes　I　thought　you　did；　and　at　other　times　I　thought　you…　didn't。〃
  In　a　secluded　cove；　in　which　the　sea…maids　once　had　played；　no　doubt；　Marjory　and　Coleman　sat　in　silence。　He　was　below　her；　and　if　he　looked　at　her　he　had　to　turn　his　glance　obliquely　upward。　She　was　staring　at　the　sea　with　woman's　mystic　gaze；　a　gaze　which　men　at　once　reverence　and　fear　since　it　seems　to　look　into　the　deep；　simple　heart　of　nature；　and　men　begin　to　feel　that　their　petty　wisdoms　are　futile　to　control　these　strange　spirits；　as　wayward　as　nature　and　as　pure　as　nature；　wild　as　the　play　of　waves；　sometimes　as　unalterable　as　the　mountain　amid　the　winds；　and　to　measure　them；　man　must　perforce　use　a　mathematical　formula。
  He　wished　that　she　would　lay　her　hand　upon　his　hair。　He　would　be　happy　then。　If　she　would　only；　of　her　own　will；　touch　his　hair　lightly　with　her　fingers…if　she　would　do　it　with　an　unconscious　air　it　would　be　even　better。　It　would　show　him　that　she　was　thinking　of　him；　even　when　she　did　not　know　she　was　thinking　of　him。
  Perhaps　he　dared　lay　his　head　softly　against　her　knee。　　　Did　he　dare？
  As　his　head　touched　her　knee；　she　did　not　move。　She　seemed　to　be　still　gazing　at　the　sea。　Presently　idly　caressing　fingers　played　in　his　hair　near　the　forehead。　He　looked　up　suddenly　lifting　his　arms。　He　breathed　out　a　cry　which　was　laden　with　a　kind　of　diffident　ferocity。　〃　I　haven't　kissed　you　yet…〃
  End