ll, at times, glittered and coruscated
in the sun. When she spoke, it was with the old-time velvety huskiness
of voice that Annixter had learned to love so well.

"Oh, it is you," she said, giving him her hand. "You were good to want
to see me before you left. I hear that you are going away."

She sat down upon the sofa.

"Yes," Presley answered, drawing a chair near to her, "yes, I felt I
could not stay--down here any longer. I am going to take a long ocean
voyage. My ship sails in a few days. But you, Mrs. Annixter, what are
you going to do? Is there any way I can serve you?"

"No," she answered, "nothing. Papa is doing well. We are living here
now."

"You are well?"

She made a little helpless gesture with both her hands, smiling very
sadly.

"As you see," she answered.

As he talked, Presley was looking at her intently. Her dignity was a new
element in her character and the certain slender effect of her figure,
emphasised now by the long folds of the black gown she wore, carried it
almost superbly. She conveyed something of the impression of a queen in
exile. But she had lost none of her womanliness; rather, the contrary.
Adversity had softened her, as well as deepened her. Presley saw that
very clearly. Hilma had arrived now at her perfect maturity; she had
known great love and she had known great grief, and the woman that had
awakened in her with her affection for Annixter had been strengthened
and infinitely ennobled by his death. What if things had been different?
Thus, as he conversed with her, Presley found himself wondering. Her
sweetness, her beautiful gentleness, and tenderness were almost like
palpable presences. It was almost as if a caress had been laid softly
upon his cheek, as if a gentle hand closed upon his. Here, he knew, was
sympathy; here, he knew, was an infinite capacity for love.

Then suddenly all the tired heart of him went out towards her. A longing
to give the best that was in him to the memory of her, to be strong and
noble because of her, to reshape his purposeless, half-wasted life with
her nobility and purity and gentleness for his inspiration leaped all at
once within him, leaped and stood firm, hardening to a resolve stronger
than any he had ever known.

For an instant he told himself that the suddenness of this new emotion
must be evidence of its insincerity. He was perfectly well aware that
his impulses were abrupt and of short duration. But he knew that this
was not su