this
gentleman had better go into the fire."

"Perhaps. And yet it would be a continual reminder to conquer selfishness
in great as in little things." She smiled, meeting the keen hazel eyes
with her great pure grey ones.

"If you think so, I will leave it."

"I will not take the responsibility of advising you to. You have already
shown more tact than I can lay claim to in dealing with children. And that
has been the business of the greater part of my life, remember."

He looked at her full, and said:

"I may possess and employ tact when dealing with men and with children,
possibly. But not long ago I was guilty of--and have since bitterly
reproached myself for, I beg you to believe me! a gross and lamentable
blunder as regards a woman----"

She put out her fine hand with a quick, protesting gesture, as if she
would have begged him to say no more. He went on:

"She is a lady whom you intimately know, and whom I have, like everyone
else in this town, learned to esteem highly and to profoundly respect. For
the terrible shock and the deep pain I must have given that lady in
breaking to her ignorantly and hastily the news of the death of a friend
who was dear to me, and infinitely dearer to--another with whom she is
acquainted--I humbly entreat her pardon."

He had not known her eyes were of so deep a purple-grey as to be nearly
black. Perhaps they seemed so by contrast with the absolute whiteness of
her face. The eyes winced, and the mouth contracted as she entreated,
voicelessly:

"I beg you, say no more!"

"I have but little more to say," he returned. "I will only add that if at
any time you wished in kindness to make me forget what I did that day,
you would apply to me in some difficulty, honour me with some confidence,
trust me in any unforeseen emergency in which I might be of use to you. Or
to--anyone who is dear to you, and in whom for the sake of old
associations and old ties I might even otherwise be deeply interested."

He had spoken with intention, and now his deliberate glance dropped to the
level of the strip of sandy shore beside the river, where the giant
Convent kettle boiled upon a disproportionately little fire, and Sister
Hilda-Antony presided in the Reverend Mother's place at the
trestle-supported tray where the Britannia-metal teapot brooded, as doth
the large domestic hen, over an immense family of cups and saucers. Busy
as ants, the other Sisters hurried backwards and forwards, attendin