“I remember it was close in the study,” he said--”very close; I was tired too. I must have walked too far. I don’t like it though. I must see a doctor; I must certainly see a doctor!” Alice bent over him full of sympathy, and he took her arm. I walked behind him in silence. A curious thought had taken possession of me. I could not get rid of the impression of my father’s first words, and his white, terrified face. Was it indeed a wild fancy of his, or had he really heard this voice which had stirred him so deeply? I tried to laugh at the idea. I could not. His cry was so natural, his terror so apparent! He had heard a voice. He had been stricken with a sudden terror. Whose was the voice--whence his fear of it? I watched him leaning slightly upon Alice’s arm, and walking on slowly in front of me towards the house. Already he was better. His features had reassumed their customary air of delicate and reserved strength. I looked at him with new and curious eyes. For the first time I wondered whether there might be another world, or the ashes of an old one beneath that grey, impenetrable mask. CHAPTER III MR. BRUCE DEVILLE My father’s first sermon was a great success. As usual, it was polished, eloquent, and simple, and withal original. He preached without manuscript, almost without notes, and he took particular pains to keep within the comprehension of his tiny congregation. Lady Naselton, who waited for me in the aisle, whispered her warm approval. “Whatever induced your father to come to such an out-of-the-way hole as this?” she exclaimed, as we passed through the porch into the fresh, sunlit air. “Why, he is an orator! He should preach at cathedrals! I never heard any one whose style I like better. But all the same it is a pity to think of such a sermon being preached to such a congregation. Don’t you think so yourself?” I agreed with her heartily. “I wonder that you girls let him come here and bury himself, with his talents,” she continued. “I had not much to do with it,” I reminded her. “You forget that I have lived abroad all my life; I really have only been home for about eight or nine months.” “Well, I should have thought that your sister would have been more ambitious for him,” she declared. “However, it’s not my business, of course. Since you are here, I shall insist, positively insist, upon coming every Sunday. My husband says that it is such a drag for the horses. Men have such ridiculous ideas where horses are concerned. I am sure that they take more care of them than they do of their wives. Come and have tea with me to-morrow, will you?” “If I can,” I promised. “It all depends upon what Providence has in store for me in the shape of callers.” “There is no one left to call,” Lady Naselton declared, with her foot upon the carriage step. “I looked through your card plate the other day whilst I was waiting for you. You will be left in peace for a little while now.”