but one thing you'll never
be--vain or conceited."

The charm of her, which was compounded of beauty and goodness, mixed
with an extraordinary hold upon, and joy in, the simple and healthy
things of life, came upon him with a sort of glorious newness after his
absence in South Africa. He loved other people's love of her and the
splendid reasons for it so apparent in her. But for Robin he might
nevertheless have felt baffled and sad even in these moments dedicated
to the joys of reunion, he might have felt acutely that the completeness
and perfection of reunion depended upon the exact type of union it
followed upon. Robin saved him from that. He hoped very much in Robin,
who had suddenly given him a confidence in himself which he had never
known till now. This was a glorious possession. It gave him force.
People in Welsley were decidedly impressed by Mrs. Leith's husband.
Mrs. Dickinson remarked to her Henry over griddle cakes after the three
o'clock service:

"I call Mr. Leith a very personable man. Without having Mrs. Leith's
wonderful charm--what man could have?--he makes a distinct impression.
He has suppressed force, and that's what women like in a man."

Henry took another griddle cake, and wondered whether he was wise in
looking so decided. Perhaps he ought to suppress his undoubted force;
perhaps all his life, without knowing it, he had hovered on the verge of
the blatant.

Canon Wilton also was struck by the change in Dion, and said something,
but not just then all, of what he felt.

"You know the phrase, 'I'm my own man again,' Leith, don't you?" he
said, in his strong bass voice, looking steadily at Dion with his kindly
stern eyes. (He always suggested to Dion a man who would be very stern
with himself.)

"Yes," said Dion. "Why?"

"I think South Africa's made you your own man."

Dion looked tremendously, but seriously, pleased.

"Do you? And what about the again?"

"Cut it out. I don't think you'd ever been absolutely your own man
before you went away."

"I wonder if I am now," Dion said, but without any weakness.

He had been through one war and had come out of it well; now he had come
home to another. The one campaign had been but a stern preparation for
the other perhaps. But Rosamund did not know that. Nevertheless, it
seemed to him that already their relation to each other was slightly
altered. He felt that she was more sensitive to him than formerly, more
closely observant of what he was