to show them off and get
my opinion, I think."

"And did you give him one?" she asked. "I suppose not!"

"He went away with his teeth shut--" and Mr. Carlyon's smile deepened as
he stroked his white beard.

Halcyone laughed. She seldom asked questions herself. If the Professor
wished to tell her anything about the ladies he would do so--she was
dying to hear! Presently a set of disjointed sentences flowed from her
master's lips between his puffs of smoke.

"Girl--worth something--showy--honest--sure of
herself--clever--pretty--on her own roots--not a graft."

"Girl"--who was the girl? Halcyone wondered. But Cheiron continued his
laconic utterances.

"Woman--beautiful--determined--thick--roots of the commonest--grafting
of the best--octopean, tenacious--dangerous--my poor devil of a John!"

"And did you give the apple to either, Cheiron?" Halcyone asked with a
gleam of fine humor in her wise eyes. "Or, one of the trio being absent,
did you feel yourself excused?"

Mr. Carlyon glanced at her sharply, and then broke into a smile.

"Young woman, I do not think I have ever allowed you to read the
Judgment of Paris," he said. "Wherefore your question is ill-timed and
irrelevant."

Then they laughed together. How well they knew one another!--not only
over things Greek. And presently they began their reading. They were in
the middle of Symonds' "Renaissance," and so forgot the outer world.

But after Halcyone had gone in the dusk through the park, the Professor
sat in the firelight for a while, and did not ring for lights. He was
musing deeply, and his thoughts ran something in this line:

"John must dree his weird. Nothing anyone could say has ever influenced
him. If he marries this woman she will eat his soul; having only a sham
one of her own, she will devour his. She'll do very well to adorn the
London house and feed his friends. He'll find her out in less than a
year--it will kill his inspirations. Well, Zeus and all the gods cannot
help a man in his folly. But my business is to see that he does not
ensnare the heart of my little girl. If he had waited he could have
found her--the one woman with a soul."

* * * * *

Miss Roberta had, unfortunately, a bad attack of rheumatism on Easter
Sunday, augmented by a cold, and Halcyone stayed at home to rub her poor
knee with hot oil, so she did not see the Wendover party, several of
whom came to church. Miss La Sarthe occupied the fam