"Dear lady, you may have done so"--he replied in dulcet tones and with a most captivating gentleness of manner--"It occurs to me, now I think of it, that years ago, I saw once, as a passing vision of loveliness, in the hey-day of youth and happiness, Helena Fitzroy, before she was Countess of Elton." "You must have been a mere boy--a child,--at that time!" she murmured faintly smiling. "Not so!--for you are still young, Madame, and I am old. You look incredulous? Alas, why is it I wonder, I may not look the age I am! Most of my acquaintances spend a great part of their lives in trying to look the age they are not; and I never came across a man of fifty who was not proud to be considered thirty-nine. My desires are more laudable,--yet honourable eld refuses to impress itself upon my features. It is quite a sore point with me I assure you." "Well, how old are you really?" asked Lady Sibyl smiling at him. "Ah, I dare not tell you!" he answered, returning the smile; "But I ought to explain that in my countings I judge age by the workings of thought and feeling, more than by the passing of years. Thus it should not surprise you to hear that I feel myself old,--old as the world!" "But there are scientists who say that the world is young;" I observed, "And that it is only now beginning to feel its forces and put forth its vigour." "Such optimistic wise-acres are wrong," he answered,--"The world is a veritable husk of a planet; humanity has nearly completed all its allotted phases, and the end is near." "The end?" echoed Lady Sibyl,--"Do you believe the world will ever come to an end?" "I do, most certainly. Or, to be more correct, it will not actually perish, but will simply change. And the change will not agree with the constitution of its present inhabitants. They will call the transformation the Day of Judgment. I should imagine it would be a fine sight." The Countess gazed at him wonderingly,--Lady Sibyl seemed amused. "I would rather not witness it,"--said Lord Elton gruffly. "Oh, why?" and Rimânez looked about with quite a cheerful air--"A final glimpse of the planet ere we _a_scend or _de_scend to our future homes elsewhere, would be something to remember! Madame"--here he addressed Lady Elton; "are you fond of music?" The invalid smiled gratefully, and bent her head in acquiescence. Miss Chesney had just entered the room and heard the question. "Do you play?" she exclaimed vivaciously, touching him on the arm with her fan. He bowed. "I do. In an erratic sort of fashion. I also sing. Music has always been one of my passions. When I was very young,--ages ago,--I used to imagine I could hear the angel Israfel chanting his strophes amid the golden glow of heavenly glory,--himself white-winged and wonderful, with a voice out-ringing beyond the verge of paradise!"