up, and came herself to stand by the mantelpiece.

"Then really there's no danger?"

He turned straight to her, looking at her with kind, smiling eyes.

"Lady Laura," he said, "have I ever yet told you that there was no
danger? I think not. There is always danger, for every one of us, as
there is for the scientist in the laboratory, and the engineer in his
machinery. But what we can do is to reduce that danger to a minimum,
so that, humanly speaking, we are reasonably and sufficiently safe. No
doubt you remember the case of that girl? Well, that was an accident:
and accidents will happen; but do me the justice to remember that it
was the first time that I had seen her. It was absolutely impossible
to foresee. She was on the very edge of a nervous breakdown before
she entered the room. But with regard to Mr. Baxter, I have seen him
again and again; and I tell you that I consider him to be running a
certain risk--but a perfectly justifiable one, and one that is reduced
to a minimum, if I did not think that we were taking every precaution,
I would not have him in the room for all the world.... Are you
satisfied, Lady Laura?"

Every word he said helped her back to assurance. It was all so
reasonable and well weighed. If he had said there was no danger, she
would have feared the more, but his very recognition of it gave her
security. And above all, his tranquility and his strength were
enormous assets on his side.

She drew a breath, and decided to go forward.

"And Mr. Cathcart?" she asked.

He smiled again.

"You can see what he is," he said. "I should advise you not to see him
again. It's of no sort of use."

_Chapter XIII_

I

The weather forecasts had been in the right; and the few that
struggled homewards that night from church fought against a south-west
wind that tore, laden with driving rain, up the streets and across the
open spaces, till the very lights were dimmed in the tall street lamps
and shone only through streaming panes that seemed half opaque with
mist and vapor. In Queen's Gate hardly one lighted window showed that
the houses were inhabited. So fierce was the clamor and storm of the
broad street that men made haste to shut out every glimpse of the
night, and the fanlights above the doors, or here and there a line of
brightness where some draught had tossed the curtains apart, were the
only signs of human life. Outside the broad pavements stared like
surfaces of some canal, black a