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ng the evenings in brilliant companya vision of the lovely woman who was waiting for him！ What had she said？ Her soulher soul would be lost forevermore？
Well； that showed that she was a woman； at any rate； and he loved her all the better for her womanliness。 He knew very well that if God is a Figure of Speech with men； the losing of a soul is a figure of speech with women。 The expression means only that they have lost the chance of drinking a number of cups of tea in drawing rooms whose doors are now shut to them。 That was what Ella meant； no doubt。 If she were openly to set at defiance certain of those laws by the aid of which society was kept together with a moderate degree of consistency； she would be treated as an outlaw。
After all； such a fate was not without its bright side。 Some happiness may remain to human beings in that world which is on the hither side of London drawing rooms； and it would be his aim in life to see that she had all the happiness that the world could give her。
Pah！ He felt his sentiment becoming a trifle brackish。 He loved her； and she loved him。 That was more than all the laws and the profits of society to them。 That was the beginning and the end of the whole matterthe origin of the sin （people called it a sin） and the exculpation of the sinners。 There was nothing more to be said or thought about the matter。 Those who loved would understand。 Those who did not understand would condemn； and the existence of either class was of no earthly importance to himself or to Ella。
When he awoke on the Thursday morning the feeling of exultation of which he was conscious was not without a note of depression。 So it had been when the object of his explorations in New Guinea had been attained； and he looked down at that exquisite thingthat dead splendor at his feet。
He wondered if the attainment of every great object which a man may have in life brings about a feeling of sadness that almost neutralizes the exultation。 As he picked up his letters he had a fear that among them there might be one from Ella； telling him that she had come to the conclusion that she had written too hastily those lines which he had received on Tuesdaythat； on consideration； she was unwilling to lose her soul for love of him。
No such letter； however； was among his correspondence。 （Could it be possible that he was disappointed on account of this？） He received an intimation from Berlin of the conferring of an order upon him in recognition of his exploration of a territory in which Germany was so greatly interested。 He received an intimation from Vienna that a gold medal had been voted to him by one of the learned societies in recognition of his contributions to biological science。 He received an intimation from his publishers that they had just gone to press with another thousand （the twelfth） of his book； and he received thirteen cards of invitation to various functions to take place in from three to six weeks' time； but no line did he receive from Ella。
She was his forever and ever； whether her soul would be lost or saved in consequence。
He rather thought that it would be lost； but that did not matter。 She was his forever and ever。
CHAPTER XVIII。
HERBERT COURTLAND IS A MAN WHO HAS LIVED WITH HONOR。
It was a long day。
Toward evening he recollected that he had to leave cards upon his host and hostess of the Monday previous； but it was past six o'clock when he found himself at the top of the steps of Mr。 Ayrton's house。 Before his ring had been responded to a victoria drove up with Phyllis； and in a moment she was on the step beside him。
She looked radiant in the costume which she was wearing。 He thought he had never seen a lovelier girlhe was certain that he had never seen a better…dressed girl。 （Mr。 Courtland was not clever enough to know that it is only the beautiful girls who seem well dressed in the eyes of men。） There was a certain frankness in her face that made it very interestingthe frankness of a child who looks into the face of the world and wonders at its reticence。 He felt her soft gray eyes resting upon his face； as she shook hands with him and begged him to go in and have tea with her。 He felt strangely uneasy under her eyes this evening； and his self…possession failed him so far as to make it impossible for him to excuse himself。 It did not occur to him to say that he could not drink tea with her on account of having an appointment which he could not break through without the most deplorable results。 He felt himself led by her into one of her drawing rooms； and sitting with his back to the window while her frank eyes remained on his face； asking （so he thought） for the nearest approach to their frankness in response； that a man who has lived in the world of men dare offer to a maiden whose world is within herself。
〃Oh； yes！ I got the usual notification of the Order of the Bald Eagle；〃 said he； in reply to her inquiry。 〃I shall wear it next my heart until I die。 The newspapers announced the honor that had been done to me the same morning。〃
〃You cannot keep anything out of the papers；〃 said Phyllis。
〃Even if you want toa condition which doesn't apply to my case；〃 said he。 〃My publishers admitted to me last week that they wouldn't rest easy if any newspaper appeared during the next month without my name being in its columns in some place。〃
〃I'm sure they were delighted at the development of the /Spiritual Aneroid's/ attack upon you；〃 said Phyllis。
〃They told me I was a made man；〃 said he。
She threw back her headit was her wayand laughed。 Her laughter all the grace of girlhood was in its ring； it was girlhood made audiblewas lightening her fair face as she looked at him。
〃How funny！〃 she cried。 〃You fight your way through the New Guinea forests； you are in daily peril of your life； you open up a new country； and yet you are not a made man until you are attacked by a wretched newspaper。〃
〃That is the standpoint of the people who sell books； so you may depend upon its being the standpoint of the people who buy books；〃 said he。
〃I can quite believe it；〃 said she。 〃Mr。 Geraint； the novelist； took me down to dinner at Mrs。 Lemuel's last night； and he told me that the only thing that will make people buy books is seeing the author's portrait in some of the illustrated papers； or hearing from some of the interviews which are published regarding him that he never could take sugar in his coffee。 The reviews of his books are read only by his brother authors； and they never buy a book； Mr。 Geraint says； but the interviews are read by the genuine buyers。〃
〃Mr。 Geraint knows his public； I'm sure。〃
〃I fancy he does。 He would be very amusing if he didn't aim so persistently at going one better than someone else in his anecdotes。 People were talking at dinner about your having massacred the natives with dynamiteyou did； you know； Mr。 Courtland。〃
〃Oh； yes； I have admitted so much long ago。 There was no help for it。〃
〃Well； of course everyone was laughing when papa told how the massacre came about； and this annoyed Mr。 Geraint and induced him to tell a story about a poor woman who fancied that melinite was a sort of food for children that caused their portraits to appear i