r; she had indeed been disappointed when
Aunt Anne had not admired her new dress, and she had hated Amy
Warlock's rudeness, but that was because Martin had been involved. This
new sensitiveness worried her; she hated to care whether people laughed
at the way she came into a room or whether she expressed foolish
opinions about books and pictures. She had always said just what she
thought, but now, before Philip's kindly attention and Mr. Trenchard
senior's indulgence (he wrote books and articles in the papers), she
hated her ignorance. Paul Trenchard knew frankly nothing about Art. "I
know what I like," he said, "and that's enough for me." He liked
Watts's pictures and In Memoriam and Dickens, and he heard The Messiah
once a year in London if he could leave his parish work. He laughed
about it all. "The souls of men! The souls of men!" he would say. "That
is what I'm after, Miss Cardinal. You're not going to catch them with
the latest neurotic novel, however well it's written."

Oh, he was kind to her! He was kinder and kinder and kinder. She told
him everything--except about Martin. She told him all about her life at
St. Dreot's and her father and Uncle Mathew, the aunts and the Chapel.

He was frankly shocked by the Chapel. "That's not the way to get into
heaven," he said. "We must be more patient than that. The daily round,
the daily task, that's the kind."

His physical presence began to pervade all her doings. He was not
handsome, but so clean, so rosy, and so strong. No mystery about him,
no terrors, no invasions from the devil. Everything was clear and
certain. He knew just where he was and exactly whither he was going.
One afternoon, when they were out in the motor together, he took
Maggie's hand under the rug and he held it so calmly, so firmly, with
so kindly a benevolence that she could not be frightened or
uncomfortable. He was like a large friendly brother ...

One day he called her Maggie. He blushed and laughed. "I'm so sorry,"
he said. "It slipped out. I caught it from Katherine."

"Oh, please, ... never mind," she answered. "Miss Cardinal's so stiff."

"Then you must call me Paul," he said.

A little conversation that Maggie had after this with Millicent showed
her in sharp relief exactly where she stood in relation to the
Trenchard family. They had been out in the motor together. Millie had
been shopping and now they were rolling back through the Park.

"Are you happy with us, Maggie?" Millicent