in such a mood, mingled with very different feelings, that he
donned evening clothes and set out to attend the last gathering of the
season at Valleys House, a function which, held so late in July, was
perforce almost perfectly political.

Mounting the wide and shining staircase, that had so often baffled the
arithmetic of little Ann, he was reminded of a picture entitled 'The
Steps to Heaven' in his nursery four-and-thirty years before. At the
top of this staircase, and surrounded by acquaintances, he came on
Harbinger, who nodded curtly. The young man's handsome face and figure
appeared to Courtier's jaundiced eye more obviously successful and
complacent than ever; so that he passed him by sardonically, and
manoeuvred his way towards Lady Valleys, whom he could perceive
stationed, like a general, in a little cleared space, where to and fro
flowed constant streams of people, like the rays of a star. She was
looking her very best, going well with great and highly-polished spaces;
and she greeted Courtier with a special cordiality of tone, which had in
it, besides kindness towards one who must be feeling a strange bird, a
certain diplomatic quality, compounded of desire, as it were, to 'warn
him off,' and fear of saying something that might irritate and make him
more dangerous. She had heard, she said, that he was bound for Persia;
she hoped he was not going to try and make things more difficult there;
then with the words: "So good of you to have come!" she became once more
the centre of her battlefield.

Perceiving that he was finished with, Courtier stood back against a wall
and watched. Thus isolated, he was like a solitary cuckoo contemplating
the gyrations of a flock of rooks. Their motions seemed a little
meaningless to one so far removed from all the fetishes and shibboleths
of Westminster. He heard them discussing Miltoun's speech, the real
significance of which apparently had only just been grasped. The words
'doctrinaire,' 'extremist,' came to his ears, together with the saying
'a new force.' People were evidently puzzled, disturbed, not pleased--as
if some star not hitherto accounted for had suddenly appeared amongst
the proper constellations.

Searching this crowd for Barbara, Courtier had all the time an uneasy
sense of shame. What business had he to come amongst these people so
strange to him, just for the sake of seeing her! What business had he to
be hankering after this girl at all, knowing in his hear