struck down by a sick headache; and Ethel had stayed at home
to nurse Rose, so far as Rose would allow herself to be nursed. Leonora
felt no desire to hurry back to the somewhat perilous atmosphere of
Sunday dinner, and moreover she shrank nervously from the possibility of
having to make the acquaintance of Mr. Twemlow. But when she and Milly
at length reached the outer vestibule, a concourse of people still
lingered there, and among them Arthur was just bidding good-bye to the
Myatts. Hannah, rather shortsighted, did not observe Leonora and Milly;
Meshach gave them his curt quizzical nod, and the aged twain departed.
Then Millicent, proud of her acquaintance with the important stranger,
and burning to be seen in converse with him, left her mother's side and
became an independent member of society.

'How do you do, Mr. Twemlow?' she chirped.

'Ah!' he replied, recognising her with a bow the sufficiency of which
intoxicated the young girl. 'Not in such a hurry this morning?'

'Oh! no!' she agreed with smiling effusion, and they both glanced with
furtive embarrassed swiftness at Leonora. 'Mamma, this is Mr. Twemlow.
Mr. Twemlow my mother.' The dashing modish air of the child was
adorable. Having concluded her scene she retired from the centre of the
stage in a glow.

Arthur Twemlow's manner altered at once as he took Leonora's hand and
saw the sudden generous miracle which happened in her calm face when she
smiled. He was impressed by her beautiful maturity, by the elegance born
of a restrained but powerful instinct transmitted to her through
generations of ancestors. His respect for Meshach rose higher. And she,
as she faced the self-possessed admiration in Arthur's eyes, was
conscious of her finished beauty, even of the piquancy of the angle of
her hat, and the smooth immaculate whiteness of her gloves; and she was
proud, too, of Millicent's gracile, restless charm. They walked down the
steps side by side, Leonora in the middle, watched curiously from above
and below by little knots of people who still lingered in front of the
chapel.

'You soon got to work here, Mr. Twemlow,' said Leonora lightly.

He laughed. 'I guess you mean that collecting box. That was Mr. Myatt's
game. He didn't do me right, you know. He got me into his pew, and then
put the plate on to me.'

Leonora liked his Americanism of accent and phrase; it seemed romantic
to her; it seemed to signify the quick alertness, the vivacious and
surprisi