They had a merry tea, and then they drew round the fire and sang hymns; and church-time came only too quickly. Waveney had her old place between her father and Mollie; and when the gas was turned down during the sermon, Mollie slipped her hand into hers. And a dark young man, who was sitting a few pews behind them, watched them attentively through the service; and, when, in the dusk, he saw Mollie nestle up to her sister, a great softness came into his eyes, and he said to himself, "Poor little thing!" But as Noel strutted beside his sisters on the way to the station to see Waveney off, he said a thing that surprised them. "Did you see my friend the Idealist!" he asked, with his chin elevated. "My word, he looked quite the swagger gentleman in his new frock coat." "Do you mean Monsieur Blackie!" asked Waveney; and she pressed Mollie's arm involuntarily. She had had no opportunity of giving her father that hint, and now she must wait for another week. "Yes, Monsieur Blackie--Monsieur Blackie--Monsieur Blackie," returned the provoking lad, in a falsetto squeak. "Hold hard, father, you have nearly landed me into the gutter." And then a little, dark gentleman, who was following them unperceived, gave a low laugh. "My friend the humorist at his tricks again," he murmured. "I wish Gwen could see that lad; she would love him." CHAPTER XVII. "LIKE SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT." "The situation that has not its Duty, its Ideal, was never yet occupied by man. Yes, here in this miserable, despicable actual wherein thou even now standest, here or nowhere is thy Ideal. Work it out therefore. The Ideal is in thyself, the impediment too is in thyself." CARLYLE. "Something there was in her life incomplete, imperfect, unfinished." LONGFELLOW. One evening, about a week later, Thorold Chaytor walked quickly over the Dereham bridge on his way from the station. His day, as usual, had been spent in his dingy chambers in Lincoln's Inn; he had worked hard, and felt unusually weary, and the damp chilliness of the mists rising from the river made him shiver and button up his coat more closely. A slight mizzling rain was now falling; the pavements were wet and greasy; the gas lights on the towing path seemed to waver and then flare up with windy flickers; the black hulls of the boats and barges moored to the shore loomed through the mist like vast monsters weltering in the mud; and the grey river flowing under the bridges washed silently against the piers in the darkness.