o you agree with me, my dear?"

He was evidently waiting with anxiety for her answer, and the little
silver hairs that straggled on his lean throat beneath his beard were
clearly visible.

"Yes, Father, I agree."

"Ah!" said Mr. Stone, "I am glad that you confirm me. I was anxious.
Follow!"

Bianca rose. Burning spots of colour had settled in her cheeks. She
went towards the door, and the little model pursued her figure with a
long look, cringing, mutinous, and wistful.

CHAPTER XX

THE HUSBAND AND THE WIFE

It was past six o'clock when Hilary at length reached home, preceded a
little by Miranda, who almost felt within her the desire to eat. The
lilac bushes, not yet in flower, were giving forth spicy fragrance. The
sun still netted their top boughs, as with golden silk, and a blackbird,
seated on a low branch of the acacia-tree, was summoning the evening.
Mr. Stone, accompanied by the little model, dressed in her new clothes,
was coming down the path. They were evidently going for a walk, for Mr.
Stone wore his hat, old and soft and black, with a strong green tinge,
and carried a paper parcel, which leaked crumbs of bread at every step.

The girl grew very red. She held her head down, as though afraid of
Hilary's inspection of her new clothes. At the gate she suddenly looked
up. His face said: 'Yes, you look very nice!' And into her eyes a look
leaped such as one may see in dogs' eyes lifted in adoration to their
masters' faces. Manifestly disconcerted, Hilary turned to Mr. Stone.
The old man was standing very still; a thought had evidently struck him.
"I have not, I think," he said, "given enough consideration to the
question whether force is absolutely, or only relatively, evil. If I saw
a man ill-treat a cat, should I be justified in striking him?"

Accustomed to such divagations, Hilary answered: "I don't know whether
you would be justifed, but I believe that you would strike him."

"I am not sure," said Mr. Stone. "We are going to feed the birds."

The little model took the paper bag. "It's all dropping out," she said.
From across the road she turned her head....'Won't you come, too?' she
seemed to say.

But Hilary passed rather hastily into the garden and shut the gate behind
him. He sat in his study, with Miranda near him, for fully an hour,
without doing anything whatever, sunk in a strange, half-pleasurable
torpor. At this hour he should have been working at his book; and the