r seemed forcing him onward,
urging him to arouse himself from his stupor, and go forth once more
into the arena.

One evening husband and wife sat alone together in the little
drawing-room of the flat. Lowther was smoking, and making a pretence of
reading a review, Lilith sat by the open window, her hands folded on her
lap. She had none of the nervous, fidgety movements to which most women
are subject in moments of idleness, but could remain motionless as a
statue for half an hour on end, her lids drooped over her quiet eyes.
It was no interruption on his wife's part which caused Lowther's
increasing restlessness; even when the book was thrown down, and he took
to pacing hurriedly up and down, she remained passive and immovable.

Suddenly Lowther drew up by her side, laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Lilith! I'm going... To the House. Would you come? I think it would
help me if you would come too."

It was the first time that he had acknowledged in words the mysterious
truth that in his wife's presence he felt stronger, freer from
temptation. His hand lingered on her shoulder with a caressing touch,
and Lilith turned her head so that for a fleeting moment her cheek
rested against his fingers. Her assent was a matter of course; she
wasted no breath on that, but, as she rose to her feet, she spoke a few
words, which to Lowther's bruised spirit, were as water to a fainting
man: "I am so _proud_ of you, Hereward!"

The session had begun, and the Land Bill was occupying the attention of
the House. The two leaders had delivered themselves of strong opposing
speeches, and the Bill was open for discussion. One member after
another rose from the crowded benches. A few of the number spoke well
and to the point, and were acclaimed with applause; but the greater
number repeated old arguments, and failed to throw fresh light on the
vexed problem. The House listened with resigned impatience.

In a corner of the Ladies' Gallery sat a small figure with an aureole of
flaxen hair. She leaned forward on her seat, her hands clasped
together, her eyes fixed in a deep, unblinking gaze at a man on the
opposite benches. He was a striking-looking man, still young, yet with
an air of delicacy and strain. An onlooker observing him at this moment
would have noticed that from time to time he stirred uneasily, and cast
a glance upwards at the grille of the Ladies' Gallery. As each speaker
in succession finished his speech and sat