erfect and once well-beloved face, any more than he
could keep his ears from listening to that voice which had once been the
sweetest of music for him, rather than to the general conversation in
which it was his social duty to take a part.

It was a sore trial to the fortitude and self-control of a man who had
loved as long and as dearly as he had done, but the strength which his
long vigils away among the hills had given him did not desert him, and
he came through it outwardly calm and triumphant, however deeply the
iron was entering into his soul the while. It was one of those occasions
on which such a man as he would take refuge from spiritual torment in
intellectual activity, and neither Enid nor her husband had ever heard
him talk so brilliantly and withal so lightly and good-humouredly as he
did that night.

One of the guests was the vicar of Bedminster; and a Canon of Worcester,
an old friend of Sir Reginald's, happened to be staying in the house.
They were both High Churchmen, the Canon perhaps a trifle "higher" than
the Vicar, and they were both delighted with him. The Canon remembered
his ordination at Worcester, and during the conversation, which had now
turned upon the relationship between the Church and the People, he said:

"Well, Maxwell, I will say frankly if you can preach as well as you can
talk, and if your doctrine is as sound as your opinion on things in
general seems to be, the Church will be none the poorer when you are
priested. I think I shall ask the Bishop to let you preach the Sunday
after you take full orders. I suppose your Father Superior up there
would let you come, wouldn't he?

"A grand man, that Father Philip, by the way," he went on, looking round
the table. "In his quiet, unostentatious way, in his little room up
there in the old house of Our Lady of Rest, as they used to call it, he
has done more real work for the Church than, I am afraid, a good many of
us have done with all our preaching in churches and cathedrals."

"That," said Enid, "would be altogether delightful. Of course, we should
all come and hear your Reverence," she went on, with a half ironical nod
towards Vane. "You know, Canon, Mr. Maxwell and I are quite old friends.
In fact, we came home from India as children in the same ship, didn't
we, Reggie?" she added, with another laughing nod, this time at her
husband, "and I am sure your Reverence would have no more interested
listener than I should be."

"It is quit