the confidential man's soft：
〃Mr。 Lennan； miss；〃 he added a softer： 〃May I come in？〃
She put her hand into his with intense composure。
〃Oh； yes； do！ if you don't mind the mess I'm making；〃 and； with a
little squeeze of the tips of his fingers； added： 〃Would it bore
you to see my photographs？〃
And down they sat together before the photographssnapshots of
people with guns or fishing…rods； little groups of schoolgirls；
kittens； Dromore and herself on horseback； and several of a young
man with a broad； daring； rather good…looking face。 〃That's
OliverOliver DromoreDad's first cousin once removed。 Rather
nice； isn't he？ Do you like his expression？〃
Lennan did not know。 Not her second cousin； her father's first
cousin once removed！ And again there leaped in him that
unreasoning flame of indignant pity。
〃And how about drawing？ You haven't come to be taught yet。〃
She went almost as red as her frock。
〃I thought you were only being polite。 I oughtn't to have asked。
Of course； I want to awfullyonly I know it'll bore you。〃
〃It won't at all。〃
She looked up at that。 What peculiar languorous eyes they were！
〃Shall I come to…morrow； then？〃
〃Any day you like； between half…past twelve and one。〃
〃Where？〃
He took out a card。
〃Mark LennanyesI like your name。 I liked it the other day。
It's awfully nice！〃
What was in a name that she should like him because of it？ His
fame as a sculptorsuch as it wascould have nothing to do with
that； for she would certainly not know of it。 Ah！ but there was a
lot in a namefor children。 In his childhood what fascination
there had been in the words macaroon； and Spaniard； and Carinola；
and Aldebaran； and Mr。 McCrae。 For quite a week the whole world
had been Mr。 McCraea most ordinary friend of Gordy's。
By whatever fascination moved； she talked freely enough nowof her
school； of riding and motoringshe seemed to love going very fast；
about Newmarketwhich was 'perfect'； and theatresplays of the
type that Johnny Dromore might be expected to approve； these
together with 'Hamlet' and 'King Lear' were all she had seen。
Never was a girl so untouched by thought； or Artyet not stupid；
having； seemingly； a certain natural good taste； only； nothing；
evidently； had come her way。 How could it'Johnny Dromore duce；
et auspice Johnny Dromore！' She had been taken； indeed； to the
National Gallery while at school。 And Lennan had a vision of eight
or ten young maidens trailing round at the skirts of one old
maiden； admiring Landseer's dogs； giggling faintly at Botticelli's
angels； gaping； rustling； chattering like young birds in a
shrubbery。
But with all her surroundings； this child of Johnny Dromoredom was
as yet more innocent than cultured girls of the same age。 If those
grey； mesmeric eyes of hers followed him about； they did so
frankly； unconsciously。 There was no minx in her； so far。
An hour went by； and Dromore did not come。 And the loneliness of
this young creature in her incongruous abode began telling on
Lennan's equanimity。
What did she do in the evenings？
〃Sometimes I go to the theatre with Dad； generally I stay at home。〃
〃And then？〃
〃Oh！ I just read； or talk French。〃
〃What？ To yourself？〃
〃Yes； or to Oliver sometimes； when he comes in。〃
So Oliver came in！
〃How long have you known Oliver？〃
〃Oh！ ever since I was a child。〃
He wanted to say： And how long is that？ But managed to refrain；
and got up to go instead。 She caught his sleeve and said：
〃You're not to go！〃 Saying that she looked as a dog will； going to
bite in fun； her upper lip shortened above her small white teeth
set fast on her lower lip； and her chin thrust a little forward。 A
glimpse of a wilful spirit！ But as soon as he had smiled； and
murmured：
〃Ah！ but I must； you see！〃 she at once regained her manners； only
saying rather mournfully： 〃You don't call me by my name。 Don't you
like it？〃
〃Nell？〃
〃Yes。 It's really Eleanor； of course。 DON'T you like it？〃
If he had detested the name； he could only have answered： 〃Very
much。〃
〃I'm awfully glad！ Good…bye。〃
When he got out into the street； he felt terribly like a man who；
instead of having had his sleeve touched； has had his heart plucked
at。 And that warm； bewildered feeling lasted him all the way home。
Changing for dinner； he looked at himself with unwonted attention。
Yes； his dark hair was still thick； but going distinctly grey；
there were very many lines about his eyes； too； and those eyes；
still eager when they smiled； were particularly deepset； as if life
had forced them back。 His cheekbones were almost 'bopsies' now；
and his cheeks very thin and dark； and his jaw looked too set and
bony below the almost black moustache。 Altogether a face that life
had worn a good deal； with nothing for a child to take a fancy to
and make friends with； that he could see。
Sylvia came in while he was thus taking stock of himself； bringing
a freshly…opened flask of eau…de…Cologne。 She was always bringing
him somethingnever was anyone so sweet in those ways。 In that
grey； low…cut frock； her white； still prettiness and pale…gold
hair； so little touched by Time； only just fell short of real
beauty for lack of a spice of depth and of incisiveness； just as
her spirit lacked he knew not what of poignancy。 He would not for
the world have let her know that he ever felt that lack。 If a man
could not hide little rifts in the lute from one so good and humble
and affectionate； he was not fit to live。
She sang 'The Castle of Dromore' again that night with its queer
haunting lilt。 And when she had gone up； and he was smoking over
the fire； the girl in her dark…red frock seemed to come； and sit
opposite with her eyes fixed on his； just as she had been sitting
while they talked。 Dark red had suited her！ Suited the look on
her face when she said：
〃You're not to go！〃 Odd； indeed； if she had not some devil in her；
with that parentage！
V
Next day they had summoned him from the studio to see a peculiar
phenomenonJohnny Dromore； very well groomed； talking to Sylvia
with unnatural suavity； and carefully masking the goggle in his
eyes！ Mrs。 Lennan ride？ Ah！ Too busy； of course。 Helped Mark
with hiser No！ Really！ Read a lot； no doubt？ Never had any
time for readin' himselfawful bore not having time to read！ And
Sylvia listening and smiling； very still and soft。
What had Dromore come for？ To spy out the land； discover why
Lennan and his wife thought nothing of the word 'outside'whether；
in fact； their household was respectable。 。 。 。 A man must always
look twice at 'what…d'you…call…ems；' even if they have shared his
room at school！ 。 。 。 To his credit； of course； to be so careful
of his daughter； at the expense of time owed to the creation of the
perfect racehorse！ On the whole he seemed to be coming to the
conclusion that they might be useful to Nell in the uncomfortable
time at hand when she would have to go about； seemed even to be
falling under the spell of Sylvia's transparent goodness
abandoning his habitual vigilance against being scored off in
life's perpetual bet； parting with his armour of chaff。 Almost a
relief； indeed； once out of Sylvia's presence； to see that
familiar； unholy curiosity creeping back into his eyes； as though
they were hoping against parental hope to find somethinger
amusing somewhere about that mysterious Mecca of good timesa
'what…d'you…call…it's' studio。 Delicious to watch the conflict
between relief and disappointment。 Alas！ no modelnot even a
statue without clothes； nothing but portrait heads； casts of
animals； and such…like sobrietiesabsolutely nothing that could
bring a blush to the cheek of the young person； or a glow to the
eyes of a Johnny Dromore。
With what curious silence he walked round and round the group of
sheep…dogs； inquiring into them with that long crinkled nose of
his！ With what curious suddenness； he said： 〃Damned good！ You
wouldn't do me one of Nell on horseback？〃 With what dubious
watchfulness he listened to the answer：
〃I might； perhaps； do a statuette of her； if I did； you should have
a cast。〃
Did he think that in some way he was being outmanoeuvered？ For he
remained some seconds in a sort of trance before muttering； as
though clinching a bet：
〃Done！ And if you want to ride with her to get the hang of it； I
can always mount you。〃
When he had gone； Lennan remained staring at his unfinished sheep…
dogs in the gathering dusk。 Again that sense of irritation at
contact with something strange； hostile； uncomprehending！ Why let
these Dromores into his life like this？ He shut the studio； and
went back to the drawing…room。 Sylvia was sitting on the fender；
gazing at the fire； and she edged along so as to rest against his
knees。 The light from a candle on her writing…table was shining on
her hair； her cheek； and chin； that years had so little altered。 A
pretty picture she made； with just that candle flame； swaying
there； burning slowly； surely down the pale waxcandle flame； of
all lifeless things most living； most like a spirit； so bland and
vague； one would hardly have known it was fire at all。 A drift of
wind blew it this way and that： he got up to shut the window； and
as he came back； Sylvia said：
〃I like Mr。 Dromore。 I think he's nicer than he looks。〃
〃He's asked me to make a statuette of his daughter on horseback。〃
〃And will you？〃
〃I don't know。〃
〃If she's really so pretty； you'd better。〃
〃Pretty's hardly the wordbut she's not ordinary。〃
She turned round； and looked up at him； and instinctively he felt
that something difficult to answer was coming next。
〃Mark。〃
〃Yes。〃
〃I wanted to ask you： Are you really happy nowadays？〃
〃Of course。 Why not？〃
What else to be said？ To speak of those feelings of the last few
monthsthose feelings so ridiculous to anyone who had them not
would only disturb her horribly。
And having received her answer； Sylvia turned back to the fire；
resting silently against his knees。 。 。 。
Three days later the sheep…dogs suddenly abandoned the pose into
which he had lured them with such difficulty； and made for the
studio door。 There in the