And a second man's voice answered, with a drawl, “Better let the girls choose for themselves, don't you know.” John Storm felt his hands and feet grow cold, and he stepped out into the porch. Glory saw him coming and made a faint cry of recognition. “Ah, here is Mr. Storm! Mr. Storm, you should know Mr. Drake. He was in the Isle of Man, you remember----” “I do _not_ remember,” said John Storm. “But you saved his life, and you ought to know him----” “I do _not_ know him,” said John Storm. She was beginning to say, “Let me introduce----” But she stopped and stood silent for a moment, while the strange light came into her gleaming eyes of something no word could express, and then she burst into noisy laughter. A superintendent Sister going through the hall at the moment drew up and said, “Nurse, I am surprised at you! Go to your rooms this instant!” and the girls whispered their adieus and went off giggling. “What a glorious night it has been!” said Glory, going upstairs. “I'm glad you think so,” said Polly. “To tell you the truth, I found it dreadfully tiresome.” The two men lit their cigarettes and got back into one of the hansoms and drove away. “What a bear that man is!” said Lord Robert. “Rude enough, certainly,” said Drake; “but I liked his face for all that; and if the Fates put it into his head to stand between me and death--well, I'm not going to forget it.” “Give him a wide berth, dear boy. The fellow is an actor--an affected fop. I met him at Mrs. Macrae's on Thursday. He is a religious actor and a poseur. He'll do something one of these days, take my word for it.” And meanwhile John Storm had buttoned his long coat up to his throat and was striding home through the echoing streets, with both hands clinched and his teeth set hard. XIII. “Martha's. “Oh, Lord-a-massy! Oh, Gough bless me sowl! Oh, my beloved grandfather! John Storm has done for himself at last! That man was never an author of peace and a lover of concord; but, my gracious, if you had heard his sermon in church on Sunday morning! Being a holy and humble woman of heart myself, I altered the Litany the smallest taste possible, and muttered away from beginning to end, 'O Lord, close thou our lips'; but the Lord didn't heed me in the least, with the result that everybody on earth is now screaming and snarling at our poor Mr. Storm exactly as if he had been picking the pockets of the universe.