The Point of View | Page 5

at her with the same mild frankness
which disarmed any resentment. She felt they were as calm as deep
pools of blue water--they filled her with a sense of confidence and
security--which she could not account for in any way.
Her color deepened--something in his peaceful expectancy seemed to
compel her to answer his late question.
"My Christian name is Stella," she said, rather quickly, then added
nervously: "I am engaged to Mr. Eustace Medlicott, an English
clergyman--we are going to be married in September next."
"And this is May," was all Count Roumovski replied; then, for the first
time since he had addressed her, he turned his eyes from her face, while
the faintest smile played round his well-cut mouth.
"A number of things can happen in four months. Are you looking
forward to your life as the wife of a priest--but I understand it is
different in England to in my country--there I could not recommend the
situation to you."
Stella found absolutely no answer to this. She only felt a sudden, wild
longing to cry out that the idea of being a curate's wife-- even the
Bishop's junior young gentleman with eight hundred a year of his
own--had never appeared a thrilling picture, and was now causing her a
feeling of loathing. She thought she ought to talk no longer to this
stranger, and half rose from her seat.
He put out a protesting hand, both had been clasped idly over the Times
until then without a movement.
"No--do--not go--I have disturbed you--I am sorry," he pleaded. "Listen,

there is a great reception at your Embassy to-morrow night--for one of
our Royal Family who is here. You will go, perhaps. If so, I will do so
also, although I dislike parties--and there I will be presented to you
with ceremony--it will appease that English convention in you, and
after that I shall say to you a number of things--but I prefer to sit here
and speak behind the Times."
At this instant he raised the paper, and appeared again the stranger
almost entirely hidden from view. And Stella saw that her Uncle
Erasmus was rapidly approaching her with an envelope in his hand. She
seized her pen again and continued her broken sentence to Eustace--her
betrothed. Canon Ebley viewed the Times and its holder with suspicion
for an instant, but its stillness reassured him, and he addressed his
niece.
"Very civil of the Embassy to send us a card for the reception to-
morrow night, Stella; I am glad we wrote names when we arrived. Your
Aunt Caroline bids you accept, as her spectacles are upstairs."
Miss Rawson did as she was bid, and her uncle waited, fidgeting with
his feet. He wished the stranger to put down the Times, which he
wanted himself--or, at all events, remove his long legs and hidden body
from such a near proximity to his niece; they could not say a word that
he could not overhear, Canon Ebley mused.
However, the unknown remained where he was, and turned a page of
the paper with great deliberation.
"Your aunt will be ready to go out again now," the Uncle Erasmus
announced, as Stella placed her acceptance in the envelope. "You had
better go up and put your hat on, my dear."
The Times rustled slightly--and Stella replied a little hurriedly: "I was
just finishing a letter, uncle, then I will come."
"Very well," said Canon Ebley, not altogether pleased, as he walked
away with the note.

The newspaper was lowered a few inches again, and the wise blue eyes
beneath the saintly parted hair twinkled with irresistible laughter, and
the deep voice said:
"He would greatly disapprove of our having conversed--the uncle-- is it
not so? How long are you going to stay in Rome?"
Stella smiled, too--she could not help it.
"A week--ten days, perhaps," she answered, and then rapidly addressed
an envelope to the Rev. Eustace Medlicott.
"Perhaps, in that case, I can afford to wait until to-morrow night; unless
it amuses you, as it does me, to circumvent people," Count Roumovski
said. "We are all masters of our own lives, you know, once we have
ceased to be children--it is only convention which persuades us to
submit to others' authority."
Stella looked up startled. Was this indeed true? And was it simply
convention which had forced her into an engagement with Eustace
Medlicott, and now forced her to go up and put on her hat and
accompany her uncle and aunt to see the Lateran, when she would have
preferred to remain where she was and discuss abstract matters with
this remarkable stranger.
"The notion surprises you, one sees," Count Roumovski went on, "but
it is true--"
"I suppose it is," said Stella lamely.
"I submit to no authority--I mean,