The expression was not very clerical, but in his excitement he forgot the propriety of which he was usually careful. His mind was excessively alert, and Mrs. Fitzherbert’s reflections, spoken almost at haphazard, gave him in a flash the plan of action he wanted. In such a manner, though with vastly less rapidity, Sir Isaac Newton is said to have discovered the theory of gravitation. The Canon’s scheme was so bold that it surprised him. When he turned it over, and saw how dangerous it was, how unexpected, above all how ingeniously dramatic, he could not restrain his enthusiasm. The subtlety caught his sense of humour, and at the same time flattered his love for power. Apparently he would withdraw from the struggle, but all the time the various actors would work his will. It was well worth the risk, and he felt certain of ultimate victory. He laughed aloud, and jumping up, seized Mrs. Fitzherbert’s hands. “What a wonderful woman you are! You’ve saved the whole situation.” He looked at her with flaming eyes, and as she smiled upon him, he had never found her handsomer. He still held her hands. “You know, you grow better looking each year you grow older. Upon my soul, it’s not fair to the rest of us.” “Don’t be so foolish,” she laughed, trying to withdraw from his grasp. “Why shouldn’t I hold them?” he cried gaily. “We’re old friends. Heaven knows how many years it is since first we met.” “That’s just it, Heaven does know we’re both of us perilously nearly fifty, and really ought to have learned how to behave by now.” “Nonsense, I won’t believe a word of it. Every one knows that there is nothing so untruthful as Anno Domini, and I’m convinced that neither of us is a day more than thirty. You don’t look it, and I’m sure I don’t feel it.” “You really must not press my hands so hard. I tell you it’s ridiculous.” She positively blushed, and the Canon’s blue eyes were brighter than ever, as he noticed this sign of confusion. “Do you remember how once we walked together in Kensington Gardens? We didn’t think ourselves ridiculous then.” It was a tactless thing to say, but perhaps Theodore did not remember the exact circumstances so well as Mrs. Fitzherbert. She tightened her lips as she recalled that last scene, and there was no doubt now that she wanted him to leave her hands. “You’re hurting me,” she said. “My rings.” “Oh, I’m so sorry!” He looked at her face. “But what have I said to annoy you?” “Nothing,” she replied, with a smile, recovering herself quickly. “But my carriage has been waiting for an hour, and I really must go out.” “Fool that I am! Why didn’t you send me away before?”