of their subject. Her submissive attitude,
her soft, musical voice, and her docile expression made both men
insensible to the actual commands insinuated into the emotional wit and
acute arguments of her little speech. Reckage was fascinated. He sat
there drinking in her beauty and wisdom--the one stimulated his senses,
the other pierced his intelligence, making him feel that, with such a
companion ever by his side, he might achieve heroism with a good
conscience. As matters were, he was often dissatisfied, sleepless, and
oppressed--particularly under praise. He was not often set right, as he
would have said it, in his own opinion--even when the world and his
Executive Committee were disposed to cry out--"Well done."

"I didn't run within pounds of my form," was the cry of self-reproach he
invariably heard above the applause of his colleagues or the
commendation of the Press. Sara, he believed, would give him the courage
of his own better nature. These thoughts were passing rosily in his
heart, when Lord Garrow, accompanied by Agnes Carillon, entered the
room.

"My love," said Lord Garrow to Sara, "I met Miss Carillon on the steps
of the London Library, and I have brought her in to tea. But why do you
sit in the firelight? Why haven't they lit the gas? And who is here?"

A sudden flame from the grate illuminated the faces of Orange and Lord
Reckage. The two ladies greeted each other. All spoke, and then all were
silent. It was an awkward meeting for every one present. Lord Garrow
rang the bell, and the small company sat there without a word, watching
the footman light the gas in the glass chandelier.

"What do you suppose we have been talking about?" asked Sara
desperately.

"I can't imagine, my dear," said her father. "I am far too cross. I hate
these odd ways."

"We were discussing the validity of Anglican Orders."

"God bless my soul!" exclaimed his lordship; "what next?"

Agnes, who was looking pale and worried, frowned with displeasure.

"But how disloyal!" she said severely. "As if one could even discuss
such a question!"

"Mr. Orange is a Roman Catholic," answered Sara, "so he is not disloyal.
I am nothing--so I have no obligations. Lord Reckage is in public life
and has to meet the problems of the age. Don't be narrow, dear Agnes."

"I think it too bad, all the same," replied Miss Carillon--"even in fun.
I am sure I am right."

Lord Reckage tried to conceal his annoyance, but his voice shook a
litt