er wide,
intelligent outlook on life made him for the moment forget his
oft-expressed opinion of women. Besides, he had his part to play, and he
played it.

Presently a servant came saying that Mr. Lowry's motor-car was at the
door.

"You are not going up to town by train?" said Mr. Castlemaine.

"No, I had the car in London, and I thought I might as well use it,"
replied Mr. Lowry; "besides, I can get back quicker in the car."

"Yes," replied Mr. Castlemaine, "I suppose so; but, personally, I would
rather be behind a pair of good horses. I am really sorry you have to go
so soon," he said, turning to Leicester. "I am very glad to have met
you. I hope we shall see more of each other."

Purvis looked angrily at Leicester as he heard John Castlemaine say
this, but he said nothing; he was a little afraid.

"Are you going back to London, Purvis?" asked Leicester. "If you are,
I'm sure Mr. Lowry will be glad to give you a lift."

"Thank you," said Purvis; then, as an afterthought, he added, "I should
like a word with Mr. Castlemaine before I go. We have all been so
interested in Mr. Leicester's opinions that I had almost forgotten the
errand on which I came."

For a minute Leicester was alone with Olive.

"I have to thank you for a pleasant evening, Miss Castlemaine," he said,
"one of the few pleasant evenings of my life."

She looked up at him inquiringly.

"I mean what I say," he said. "While we were at dinner I told you that I
had found life very interesting. I told you a lie. Why I told it I don't
know. It slipped from my tongue before I realised what I was saying. I
have not found life interesting, I have found it anything but
that--anything. But this evening has been an oasis in the desert, and I
thank you."

"I am glad you have had a pleasant evening," said Olive quietly;
nevertheless she wondered how much truth there was in his words.

"You do not believe me," he said, "but what I say is perfectly true. I
do not find the stage of life very interesting to act on."

"Then it is best not to act," said Olive.

"That is not a matter of choice."

"I think it is. One can choose to play a part, or he can choose to live
a life."

"The same thing," he replied.

"Pardon me, I do not think so."

"All the same, I thank you for a pleasant evening. When one has very few
of them, it is a great deal to be thankful for."

There was something in the tones of his voice that convinced her that he
meant what he s