Verily she had loved this man at one time--she shrank with self-loathing from recalling how devotedly. He it was had been the cause of all those wild storms of emotion that from time to time had convulsed her whole nature in the throes either of ecstasy or of anguish. Quite apart from the fact that he came at this crisis as the arbiter of her future fate, it would have been impossible for her to once more see him--to feel his near presence--and remain entirely unmoved. Maybe some similar reflections passed through Morris's mind. At all events, when ultimately he broke the silence, his words referred, not directly to the business on hand, but to the days that were gone. "The presiding spirits at our exciting and interesting farewell, five--six now, isn't it?--six years ago, were not exactly those of Peace and Harmony, were they? Where did the venturesome little birdie flutter when it left its gilded cage, and what did it do?" Considering the gravity of the circumstances to which he was alluding, this light mode of address aroused all Evarne's indignation. But she carefully concealed every trace of resentment. So far her behaviour towards him that evening had been decidedly cavalier; but it was undoubtedly necessary, if she was to win her way with him, that he should be deferred to--conciliated, rendered as well disposed towards her as was possible. Thus she gently answered his question by a brief though absolutely frank recital of her short stage experience, her miseries at needlework and subsequent illness, and her ultimate success as an artist's model. She kept very much to generalities in this account of how the years had passed with her, and avoided the least mention of Geoffrey. Morris listened with evident interest, and after a period of silence had shown that she did not intend to proceed to further details, he said carelessly-- "You've escaped monotony in life, at all events. But, indeed, some new experiences have come the way of nearly everybody you once knew. Tony Belmont married, and is now a respectable, sober citizen with two children. Lucinda is still in Paris, assailing hearts and banking accounts with undiminished success--not mine, though! Little--whatever was her name? Oh, Feronnier! A man who once knew her told me he had seen her recently haunting the back streets with a face pitted by small-pox! I, to my own vast surprise, find myself, _nolens volens_, an earl! My lady-wife, the countess, grows more tenacious of life year by year. I should say also she has become more disagreeable and unpleasant daily, if she hasn't already arrived at an age when ugliness and unpleasantness in the fair sex are such that there's no distinguishing of degrees. Then Geoffrey Danvers finds himself my heir, with all the resultant privileges and drawbacks--amongst the latter being the dire necessity of marrying not merely to please his own fancy, but with a certain regard to the demands of his position."