as it were, on the surface. I was equally sure that, to her last
question, he would make no reply. Though I was now speaking to Justine
Caron, I heard him say quite calmly and firmly: "Yes, I preach, baptise,
marry, and bury, and do all I can for those who need help."

"The people about here say that you are good and charitable. You have
won the hearts of the mountaineers. But you always had a gift that
way."--I did not like her tone.--"One would almost think you had
founded a new dispensation. And if I had drowned yesterday, you would,
I suppose, have buried me, and have preached a little sermon about
me.--You could have done that better than any one else!... What would
you have said in such a case?"

There was an earnest, almost a bitter, protest in the reply.

"Pardon me, if I cannot answer your question. Your life was saved, and
that is all we have to consider, except to be grateful to Providence.
The duties of my office have nothing to do with possibilities."

She was evidently torturing him, and I longed to say a word that would
torture her. She continued: "And the flesh-pots--you have not answered
about them: do you not long for them--occasionally?"

"They are of a period," he answered, "too distant for regret."

"And yet," she replied softly, "I fancied sometimes in London last year,
that you had not outgrown that antique time--those lotos-days."

He made no reply at once, and in the pause Justine and I passed out to
the verandah.

"How long does Mrs. Falchion intend remaining here, Miss Caron?" I said.

Her reply was hesitating: "I do not quite know; but I think some time.
She likes the place; it seems to amuse her."

"And you--does it amuse you?"

"It does not matter about me. I am madame's servant; but, indeed, it
does not amuse me particularly."

"Do you like the place?"

The reply was somewhat hurried, and she glanced at me a little
nervously. "Oh yes," she said, "I like the place, but--"

Here Roscoe appeared at the door and said, "Mrs. Falchion wishes to see
Viking and Mr. Devlin's mills, Marmion. She will go with us."

In a little time we were on our way to Viking. I walked with Mrs.
Falchion, and Roscoe with Justine. I was aware of a new element in Mrs.
Falchion's manner. She seemed less powerfully attractive to me than in
the old days, yet she certainly was more beautiful. It was hard to trace
the new characteristic. But at last I thought I saw it in a decrease of
that cold composure,