ustre bowl of clove carnations; some greenish glasses with hock
cup in them; on his left, Leila in a low lilac frock, her neck and
shoulders very white, her face a little powdered, her eyes large, her
lips smiling; opposite him a black-clothed padre with a little gold
cross, over whose thin darkish face, with its grave pointed beard, passed
little gentle smiles, but whose deep sunk grey eyes were burnt and
bright; on his right, a girl in a high grey frock, almost white, just
hollowed at the neck, with full sleeves to the elbow, so that her slim
arms escaped; her short fair hair a little tumbled; her big grey eyes
grave; her full lips shaping with a strange daintiness round every
word--and they not many; brilliant red shades over golden lights dotting
the black walls; a blue divan; a little black piano flush with the wall;
a dark polished floor; four Japanese prints; a white ceiling. He was
conscious that his own khaki spoiled something as curious and rare as
some old Chinese tea-chest. He even remembered what they ate; lobster;
cold pigeon pie; asparagus; St. Ivel cheese; raspberries and cream. He
did not remember half so well what they talked of, except that he himself
told them stories of the Boer War, in which he had served in the
Yeomanry, and while he was telling them, the girl, like a child listening
to a fairy-tale, never moved her eyes from his face. He remembered that
after supper they all smoked cigarettes, even the tall child, after the
padre had said to her mildly, "My dear!" and she had answered: "I simply
must, Daddy, just one." He remembered Leila brewing Turkish coffee--very
good, and how beautiful her white arms looked, hovering about the cups.
He remembered her making the padre sit down at the piano, and play to
them. And she and the girl on the divan together, side by side, a
strange contrast; with just as strange a likeness to each other. He
always remembered how fine and rare that music sounded in the little
room, flooding him with a dreamy beatitude. Then--he remembered--Leila
sang, the padre standing-by; and the tall child on the divan bending
forward over her knees, with her chin on her hands. He remembered rather
vividly how Leila turned her neck and looked up, now at the padre, now at
himself; and, all through, the delightful sense of colour and warmth, a
sort of glamour over all the evening; and the lingering pressure of
Leila's hand when he said good-bye and they went away, for they all