'No,' she said promptly, and as she trustfully looked me in the eyes her mouth retained the form of that little word long after it had passed her lips. She was sitting in profile against the firelit background, leaning slightly forward in her chair, her elbow on her knee and her chin resting lightly on the tips of her fingers. Her pose was so easy and graceful, and her dear face, in its beauty of feature and earnestness of expression, so bewitching, that I could not conceal my longing and admiration. I would have given the world to be allowed to kneel down beside her, and there, in the mystic glamour of the firelight, worship silently and reverently at her shrine. My steady gaze disconcerted her, and I cursed my temerity when I saw a blush spreading over her half-averted face. 'Socrates has many disciples still, Mr Russell,' she said, without any sign of displeasure in her tone; and her eyes again sought mine. 'Yes. How so, Miss Stuart?' 'He sought the truth in doing good; so do you. Since father's death, and until--well, very lately, I haven't known what it is to have a joyous mind. I seem to have been walking among shadows, and a dread has always been knocking at my heart. You, by your kindly attention and your sympathy, have lightened my burden and brought a ray of hope to me; and, do you know, Mrs Jardine's little children every evening of their sweet young lives ask God to bless you for being kind to their dear daddy.' Our line of business conversation had got a twist somehow, and I didn't very well know what to say in reply, or how best, without breaking away at a tangent, I could get back to the subject I had in my mind. 'I am sorry to hear you have had your troubles, Miss Stuart,' I said after reflection; 'but I am glad to know that even to a small degree I have made your burdens lighter. I have promised to be your friend; you'll not find me wanting, I assure you. Doubtless your affairs have worried you, but daylight is showing through now, and in a few weeks I trust everything will be settled to your satisfaction. Do you know, we have with us to-day some one who knew your father, and who was present at his marriage ceremony.' 'Some one who knew my father, and who was present at his marriage ceremony!' she repeated slowly, as if she couldn't at once realise what it meant. 'Yes!' and, as I noted the colour gradually leaving her cheek, it came to me in a flash that I had erred in mentioning the fact in conjunction with a satisfactory settlement of her affairs. Even to an obtuse mind the inference was obvious, and I felt I had blundered grievously. Her agitation was unmistakable, and to relieve the situation I was about to make a remark, when she interrupted me.