She was looking straight into his face--her own still in shadow--and there was a moment’s pause; almost a breathless pause on her part it seemed; then she broke into a laugh. “That will do capitally,” she said. “The catechism is over.” She rose as she spoke, and added a word or two about a note she had to write. “We may as well go up into the drawing-room if you have finished smoking,” she said. “It is an invitation from some friends of the Pomeroys--a dinner. By-the-bye, don’t you think Miss Pomeroy a very pretty girl?” Julian’s response was rather languid, but his mother did not press the point. She turned away to replace the screen on the mantelpiece, and as she did so a thought seemed to strike her. “Oh, Julian!” she said. “Did you go to Alexandria? What about those curtains you were to get me?” Her back was towards Julian, and she did not notice the instant’s hesitation which preceded his reply. He was putting his cigar-case into his pocket, and the process seemed to demand all his attention. “I didn’t go to Alexandria, unfortunately,” he said lightly. “The Fosters had been there, and didn’t care to go again.” The clock struck twelve that night when Mrs. Romayne rose at last from the chair in front of her bedroom fireplace in which she had been sitting for more than an hour. The fire had gone out before her eyes unnoticed, and she shivered a little as she rose. Her face was strangely pale and haggard-looking, and the red-brown hair harmonised ill with the anxiety of its look. “It begins from to-night!” she said to herself. “It is his man’s life that begins from to-night!” CHAPTER IX “Quite a presentable fellow!” There was an unusual ring of excitement in Mrs. Romayne’s voice; it was about ten o’clock in the evening, and she was standing in the middle of her own drawing-room, looking up into Julian’s face, as he stood before her, having just come into the room, smiling back at her with a certain touch of excitement about his appearance also. He was in evening dress; he had evidently bestowed particular pains upon his attire, and the flower in his buttonhole was an exceptionally dainty one.