from Sloane Square to West Kensington, whence he walked to Laurel Grove.
An elderly maid opened the gate. It was a rule with the Rev. George not
to look at strange women; and this morning the asceticism which he
thought proper to his office was unusually prominent in his thoughts. He
did not look up once while the maid conducted him through the shrubbery
to the house; and he fully believed that he had not seen at the first
glance that she was remarkably plain, as Susanna took care that all her
servants should be. Passing by the drawing-room, where he had been on a
previous occasion, they went on to a smaller apartment at the back of
the house.

"What room is this?" he asked, uneasily.

"Missus's Purjin bodoor, sir," replied the main.

She opened the door; and the clergyman, entering, found himself in a
small room, luxuriously decorated in sham Persian, but containing
ornaments of all styles and periods, which had been purchased and
introduced just as they had caught Susanna's fancy. She was seated on a
ottoman, dressed in wide trousers, Turkish slippers, a voluminous sash,
a short Greek jacket, a long silk robe with sleeves, and a turban, all
of fine soft materials and rare colors. Her face was skilfully painted,
and her dark hair disposed so as not to overweight her small head. The
clergyman, foolishly resisting a natural impulse to admire her, felt
like St. Anthony struggling with the fascination of a disguised devil.
He responded to her smile of welcome by a stiff bow.

"Sit down," she said. "You mustnt mind this absurd dress: it belongs to
a new piece I am studying. I always study in character. It is the only
way to identify myself with my part, you see."

"It seems a very magnificent dress, certainly," said the clergyman,
nervously.

"Thank you for the compliment----"

"No, no," said he, hastily. "I had no such intention."

"Of course not," said Susanna, with a laugh. "It was merely an
unpremeditated remark: all compliments are, of course. I know all about
that. But do you think it a proper costume?"

"In what sense, may I ask?"

"Is it a correct Eastern dress? I am supposed to be one of the wives of
the Caliph Somebody al Something. You have no idea how difficult it is
to get a reliable model for a dress before laying out a heap of money on
it. This was designed in Paris; but I should like to hear it
criticized--chronologically, or whatever you call it--by a scholar."

"I really do not know, Madam. I