Geoff looked this afternoon so strong and unconventional—not even a frock-coat could make a man-about-town out of him. Not that he in the least answered her problem. He would probably have refused to discuss it with her, and would certainly have disagreed with her in his conclusions; and yet there was something in the strong, sound spirit of the man infinitely refreshing to her after the cruel butterflies. It was with a new sense of trust and confidence in him that she wandered in the gardens. She realized at last that the parting of the ways had come between her old friends and her new life. Before she had been happy with them because her eyes were shut, now she saw beneath all that seemed gay and delightful a horror of selfishness, hardness and wrong. Mrs. Covering never came to her; but whenever she felt a longing to return to the old life the thought of her face and the knowledge of what the day’s wanderings had shown her came back with the same bitterness. She knew that the man with whom Mrs. Covering had made “the dreadful break” would soon be received back into society again. Mothers with marriageable daughters do not ask too many questions if the woman disappears—and the woman always disappears. There were times when Muriel almost envied Mary her faith in the incorrigible—it relieved her of so much responsibility. CHAPTER XIV “Saints to do us good Must be in heaven, I seem to understand: We never find them saints before at least.” “REALLY, Gladys,” said Mary Huntly firmly, “I think you should give some reason for the way you are behaving. I don’t want to bother you, but there was my own brother, Cyril——” “What’s the use of fast-days and a cope, Mary? I should give him beefsteaks on Fridays and sausages for vigils, and he would apply for a separation. Besides, I don’t care for him.” “There is still Alec Bruce,” said Mary Huntly slowly. “He would let you have your own way in everything, and never remember a fast from one year’s end to another. Muriel Dallerton was engaged to him once years ago, before she met Captain Hurstly. It was her fault entirely that it was broken off, she was so down on him. By the way, what has become of your friendship for Muriel?” Gladys shrugged her shoulders. “Fancy marrying a man who would let you have your own way in everything. I should be bored to death. No, Mary, I am only twenty, and I really will marry somebody sometime I promise you.”