In that half-light which makes all beautiful things more beautiful, she had a spirit look, and might have seemed the materialisation of Mr. Symeon's thought, as she stood before him, fragile and slender, with glimmering lamplight on her cloud of brown hair, and on the simple white gown, of some transparent fabric, loosely draped over satin that flashed through its fleecy whiteness. Her only ornament was a necklace of _aqua marina_ in a Tiffany setting. "She wears that thing when she wants to look like a mermaid," Miss Pert whispered to her pal. "No; she wears it to remind us that she has some of the finest jewels in London, and that she despises them," said the pal, who had reached that critical age which is described as "getting on," and was inclined to take a sour view of a young woman who had married millions. Symeon and Vera talked for some time, she with a suppressed eagerness--earnest, almost impassioned; Symeon grave and reserved, yet obviously interested. "We cannot talk of these things in a crowd," he said. "If I had known you had a party----" "It is not a party. People come every afternoon in the winter, when there is not much for them to do; but if you will be so kind as to come early some day, at three o'clock, for instance, I will not be at home to anybody, unless it were Claude, who loves to hear you talk." "I will come to-morrow," said Symeon; and then, with briefest adieu, he walked slowly through the crowd, acknowledging the greetings of a few intimates with a distant bend of his iron-grey head, and walking amongst the pretty faces and smart frocks as he might have done through so many sparrows pecking on a lawn. Lady Susan came to Vera, excited and eager. "Why didn't you keep him? I wanted you to introduce him to me. I have been pining to know him. I read every line of his Review. He is wonderful! I believe he has secrets that ward off age. You must ask me to meet him--at luncheon--a party of four, with Claude. Claude has been horrid about him." "I value his friendship too much to introduce him to Tom, Dick, and Harry," said Claude. "Vera and he are elective affinities." * * * * * Father Cyprian and Claude Rutherford left the house together. "May I walk with you as far as your lodgings?" Claude asked. "By all means, and come in with me, if you can. It is early yet, and I have long wanted a talk with you." "Serious?" "Yes, even serious. When one cares as much for a young man as I do for you, there is always room for seriousness. You look alarmed, but there is no occasion. I don't preach long sermons, especially not to young men." They walked to the end of the street in silence. They were old friends; and though Claude was the most lax among Papists, Cyprian Hammond had never lost hope of bringing him back to the fold. He was emotional and imaginative, and he had a heart. Sooner or later there would come a day when he would want the utmost the Church could do for him.