ot to think of, Howard;
I must just take it all away and think it over. It's well to do that, I
think? Not to be in a hurry, try to see all round a question? That is
my line always!"

They walked into the drawing-room together; and Howard felt curiously
drawn to the warm-hearted and voluble man. Perhaps it was for the sake
of his children, he thought. There must be something fine about a man
who had brought up two such children--but that was not all; the Vicar
was enthusiastic; he revelled in life, he adored life; and Howard felt
that there was a real fund of sense and even judgment somewhere, behind
the spray of the cataract. He was a man whom one could trust, he
believed, and whom it was impossible not to like.

When they reached the drawing-room, Mrs. Graves called the Vicar into a
corner, and began to talk to him about someone in the village; Howard
heard his talk plunge steadily into the silence. Miss Merry flitted
about, played a few pieces of music; and Howard found himself left to
Maud. He went and sate down beside her. In the dim light the girl sate
forward in a big arm-chair; there was nothing languorous or listless
about her. She seemed all alert in a quiet way. She greeted him with a
smile, and sate turned towards him, her chin on her hand, her eyes upon
him. Her shining hair fell over the curves of her young and pure neck.
She was holding a flower, which Mrs. Graves had given her, in her other
hand, and its fragrance exhaled all about her. Once or twice she
checked him with a little gesture of her hand, when Miss Merry began to
play, and he could see that she was much affected by the music.

"It seems to me so wrong to talk during music," she said; "perhaps it
wasn't polite of me to stop you, but I can't bear to interrupt
music--it's like treading on flowers--it can't come again just like
that!"

"Yes," said Howard, "I know exactly what you mean; but I expect it is a
mistake to think of a beautiful thing being wasted, if we don't happen
to hear or see it. It isn't only meant for us. It is the light or the
sound or the flower, I think, being beautiful because it is glad."

"Yes," said the girl, "perhaps it is that. That is what Mrs. Graves
thinks. Do you know, it seems to me strange that you have never been
here before, though you are almost her only relation. She is the most
wonderful person I have ever seen. The only person I know who seems
always right, and yet never wants anyone else to know she is