thought of the state of the world generally? They debated the subject
endlessly; considering it elaborately from every conceivable standpoint:
and his personal authority went far to allay her disquietude. His
theories, backed up by high philosophy and poetry, fascinated her with
their harmony and originality; he had such a charming way of arranging
the order of things into a beautiful artist's scheme, whilst yet his
sympathies were deep, true, and universal!

Sometimes he was conscious of his sophistry, and felt ashamed of it
afterwards. Was he playing a comedy of sentiment? he asked himself.
Well, why not? Men and women made a careful toilette for an evening
party: why not a spiritual toilette for their sentimental relations?

The last words of his own thought, startled him. Then it _was_ a
sentimental relation. "By Jove, I must be careful!" he murmured to
himself. "She's an awfully good soul, and it isn't fair to either of
us." But the next moment he shrugged his shoulders. Why trouble his mind
at all? Every relation between a man and a woman who came into such
close personal touch was in a way sentimental--for the time being! That
was only the game of life, and everybody had to play at it: the main
thing was to bow to the rules. Such temporary relations might well be
made as pleasant as possible; but, when they were at an end, it was
incumbent on both parties to realise that.

Yet he could not help being increasingly conscious of his power over
her; it was so pathetically visible. Their conversations were often
amusingly like those of kindly tutor and obedient, inquiring child; she
hanging on his words in entire self-surrender, as he discoursed so
graciously and brought his points so lightly and simply within the
range of her comprehension. Sometimes, in following up an explanation,
he would be carried away by the flow of his own ideas and his personal
interest in the matter, and then he would almost seem to be addressing
an equal in knowledge and experience. But whenever that happened;
whenever, for example, he had let himself go too far into the subtle
mysteries of technique, he would find himself regretting the unchecked
surrender to impulse, and remain strangely vexed about it long
afterwards. It was really soaring right outside her limitations! She was
not a Lady Betty!

Lady Betty was so often in his mind now: she seemed to have established
herself more definitely there than ever before, as if to keep him u