oman and neglecting her as entirely
dispensable.

But this morning his point of view was altered. He was confident that
his interest in Lady Dawn was on an utterly different footing. He had
never had this peacefulness of feeling for any woman. He marveled at it.
He had to fight the disillusion that it might be no more than a mood.
His liking for her had come to him so suddenly. Suddenness in the
emotions prompted him to distrust. Yet his present contentment seemed as
secure as it was incomprehensible. His new affection compensated him for
all previous failures and atoned for the humiliation of every past
regret.

At that word "affection" he halted himself. Was it affection that he
entertained for Lady Dawn? He took a good look at the suspected word and
decided that it was. But it was the affection of reverence. In owning
this much he qualified his admission by insisting that his affection was
totally devoid of passion. Passion in the presence of Lady Dawn looked
hysteric and paltry. She inspired a serenity which had nothing to do
with the physical. It was the charm of her character that entranced him.
Her body scarcely figured in his thoughts; when it did, it failed to
stir him. It was no more than the gracious vehicle through which the
beauty of her spirit was expressed.

His paramount emotion was gratitude--gratitude that she, who was reputed
to be so cold, should so instantly have unveiled herself. There was a
startling purity in the frankness with which she had bared her spirit
to him. It left him awed and touched. He recognized the generosity which
had prompted her; she had realized his need of a woman's trust. And so
she had withheld nothing that would comfort him. She had made him feel
safe, the way a mother does. She had picked up the little boy that lies
hidden in the heart of every man, and had folded him in her breast.

It had been shameless of her. He had not guessed that a woman could be
so good.

And she had made him so finally sure of her. He felt that he could leave
her and know that her protection would follow him. He could return and
be equally certain that none of her understanding would have vanished.
She was the first woman who had impressed him with her wisdom; the only
one who had had the courage to offer him her strength.

And this was not love. He smiled exultantly. It was nobler and
infinitely more rare. Love, as he had read of it and mistaken it in his
experience, was a devastating ener