watching him rather cynically, interested in his youth
and in his thick, rebellious hair, flowing upwards from a white
forehead. The full-fleshed face, lit with nervous, grey eyes,
reminded Owen of a Roman bust. "A young Roman emperor," he said to
himself, and he seemed to understand Evelyn's love of Ulick. Would
that she had continued to love this young pagan! Far better than to
have been duped by that grey, skinny Christian. And he listened to
Ulick, admiring his independent thought, his flashes of wit.

Ulick was telling stories of an opera company to which it was likely
he would be appointed secretary. A very unlikely thing indeed to
happen, Owen thought, if the company were assembled outside the
windows, within hearing of the stories which Ulick was telling about
them. Very amusing were the young man's anecdotes and comments, but
it seemed to Owen as if he would never cease talking; and Innes,
though seeming to enjoy the young man's wit, seemed to feel with Owen
that something must be done to bring it to an end.

"We shall be here all the afternoon listening to you, Ulick. I don't
know if Sir Owen has anything else to do, but I have some parts to
copy; there is a rehearsal to-night."

Ulick's manner at once grew so serious and formal that Innes feared
he had offended him, and then Owen suddenly realised that they were
both being sent away. In the street they must part, that was Owen's
intention, but before he could utter it Ulick begged of him to wait
a second, for he had forgotten his gloves. Without waiting for an
answer he ran back to the house, leaving Uwen standing on the
pavement, asking himself if he should wait for this impertinent
young man, who took it for granted that he would.

"You have got your gloves," he said, looking disapprovingly at the
tight kid gloves which Ulick was forcing over his fingers. "Do you
remember the way? As well as I remember, one turns to the right."

"Yes, to the right." And talking of the old music, of harpsichords
and viols, they walked on together till they heard the whistle of
the train.

"We have just missed our train."

There was no use running, and there was no other train for half an
hour.

"The waiting here will be intolerable," Owen said. "If you would care
for a walk, we might go as far as Peckham. To walk to London would
be too far, though, indeed, it would do both of us good."

"Yes, the evening is fine--why not walk to London? We can inquire out
the wa