There was a momentary silence throughout the House. _Lowther_! How long was it, how many years since Lowther had essayed a speech? What had happened to spur him to such an effort? This was his first appearance since the beginning of the session, and though he was obviously improved in health he had avoided private conversation, and kept shrinkingly to himself. And now--a speech! With characteristic loyalty to a man who has done good work in past days, the House prayed that Lowther knew what he was about, and was not going to make an exhibition of himself. But now he was speaking, and the old charm was at work. The members listened with surprise to the old well-turned sentences, the old masterly style; felt again the charm of the old ingenuous manner. And he was speaking to the point, with an expert's width of knowledge which held the House. "On this point of tenure might it not be well to take a hint from Italy?--In Italy, etc., etc." "In Holland there was a special exemption which was worthy of note..." "In the province of Lombardy the tenants retained the right..." The land problems of Europe seemed at his finger-ends; he handled them not as a politician informed by dry, written statements, but as living things, seen through living eyes. He had apt illustrations to present with the readiness of first-hand knowledge; he had, as a sum total, one illuminating suggestion, and the House cheered him with a ringing cheer. That cheer sounded in Lowther's ears like the opening of a great gate, a gate which his own hands had closed. Through its portals he beheld once more the castles of his dreams, and took heart to walk forward. Lilith greeted him with a smile of congratulation, but the drive home was accomplished in silence. It was late when they arrived at their modest flat. The servants had retired to bed, leaving a table of refreshments drawn up before the drawing-room fire. Lilith took off her cloak and sat down, but Lowther went straight to his own room. A few minutes later he returned, and, closing the door behind him, stood silently behind her chair. She could hear the quick intake of his breath, but she waited motionless until he should speak. At last it came. "Lilith! I have something I want to give you. Something for you--to keep! Put out your hand." Still silent, still with eyes averted, she held out her hand towards him. Something cold clicked against the palm, something long and thin. She opened her fingers, and beheld a morphia syringe. "I--I shan't need it any more," stammered the voice. A hand, Lowther's hand, came over her shoulder, mutely making appeal. Lilith dropped the syringe, and caught the hand to her breast. The next minute he was kneeling at her feet, and the two were gazing deep into each other's eyes. "Lilith," cried Lowther brokenly, "it--it will be hard... I shall have a hard fight. Do you think you could _love_ me a little, Lilith?"