purity of
outline. A somewhat high forehead lent her distinction, perhaps
accentuating the shade of thoughtfulness that was characteristic of
her expression, and that never clashed with its sweetness; rather were
the two qualities blended into a charming spirituality. Her dark blue,
velvety eyes suggested the clear depth of a stream, her cheeks were
modelled in a full, soft curve, her nostrils were delicately
chiselled, and her mouth was small, red and sweet. The neck showed
cool and white above the silver-blue of her girl's soft, silk evening
gown that came almost to her throat. Margaret rather affected
silver-blue--she knew quite well it made her adorable; for, being a
sweet human being, she had just a charming touch of vanity, and would
have been less charming without it. The only other note of colour was
given by the quaint silver buckle at her waist, for the sash was of
the same material as the gown itself.

At sixty-three, Archibald Druce--for the old fellow's heart was still
susceptible--worshipped her almost as much as he had once worshipped
her mother. And Morgan had only realised how she had grown into his
spirit just when despair had begun to show itself again. The discovery
had perhaps given him a fresh spurt of hope, but the charred mass had
marked the end of that.

John Medhurst was somewhat past fifty, and his beard was getting just
a little grey. He was of medium height, and wore spectacles himself--a
fact which, in view of his profession, had given Archibald endless
material for humour. His manner and voice alike were singularly soft
and gentle. He possessed both a sense of humour and a quiet humour of
his own; and his laugh was always ready to ring out. Sometimes it
struck Morgan that Margaret's features were hinted at in his face even
more than in Mrs. Medhurst's, but so subtly, that the resemblance
would seem to vanish for long stretches of time, and he would only be
able to detect it at odd moments.

Archibald arrived quite half an hour late, so that his ferocious knock
and ring caused general rejoicing. His spirits invariably mounted as
soon as he set foot on the Medhursts' doorstep, and, once within the
house, he overflowed with jest and laughter, extracting fun and
merriment from anything and everything, making rather a terrible noise
and enjoying every instant.

"My scamp of a boy and I got talking together," he explained, in
high-pitched apology. "Now, Morgan has some ideas in that head-pi