mind the anguish of that calamitous and
shameful night three years ago when he fled before her grave reproof,
Piers beheld her and listened to her with such a sense of passionate
gratitude that he feared lest some crazy word should escape him. That
Irene remembered, no look or word of hers suggested; unless, indeed,
the perfection of her kindness aimed at assuring him that the past was
wholly past. She made inquiry about his father's health; she spoke of
his life at Odessa, and was full of interest when he sketched his
projects. To crown all, she said, with her eyes smiling upon him:

"My father would so like to know you; could you dine with us one
evening before you go?"

Piers declared his absolute freedom for a week to come.

"Suppose, then, we say Thursday? An old friend of ours will be with us,
whom you may like to meet."

She spoke a name which surprised and delighted him; that of a
scientific man known the world over. Piers went his way with raptures
and high resolves singing at his heart.

For the rest of daytime it was enough to walk about the streets in sun
and shower, seeing a glorified London, one exquisite presence obscuring
every mean thing and throwing light upon all that was beautiful. He did
not reason with himself about Irene's friendliness; it had cast a spell
upon him, and he knew only his joy, his worship. Three years of
laborious exile were trifling in the balance; had they been passed in
sufferings ten times as great, her smile would have paid for all.

Fortunately, he had a little business to transact in London; on the two
mornings that followed he was at his firm's house in the City, making
reports, answering inquiries--mainly about wool and hemp. Piers was
erudite concerning Russian wool and hemp. He talked about it not like
the ordinary business man, but as a scholar might who had very
thoroughly got up the subject. His firm did not altogether approve this
attitude of mind; they thought it _queer_, and would have smiled
caustically had they known Otway's purpose of starting as a merchant on
his own account. That, he had not yet announced, and would not do so
until he had seen his Swiss friend at Odessa again.

The evening of the dinner arrived, and again Piers was rapt above
himself. Nothing could have been more cordial than Dr. Derwent's
reception of him, and he had but to look into the Doctor's face to
recognise a man worthy of reverence; a man of genial wisdom, of the
largest humani