y my friend, I did not
recognise. Her face was hidden by her hood.

I was now more than interested, it seemed to me that I was, in a
sense, implicated. At any rate I felt very delicate about overhearing
what was to come. It is one thing to become absorbed in a ritual the
like of which, in mid-London, you can never have experienced before,
but quite another thing to listen to the secret desires of a friend in
whose house you may have dined within the month. However--by whatever
casuistries I might have compassed it--I did remain. Let me hope, nay,
let me believe of myself that if the postulant had proved to be my
friend, Mrs. Shrewton Stanhope, herself, I should either have stopped
my ears or immediately retired.

But Mrs. Stanhope, I saw at once, was no more than _dame de
compagnie_. She stood in mid-ring with bent head and hands clasped
before her while the graceful, hooded girl approached nearer to the
mysterious oracle and fulfilled the formal rites demanded of all who
sought his help. Her ringed left hand was laid upon his right
shoulder, her fair right hand upheld his chin. When she began to
speak, which she did immediately and without a tremor, again I had the
sensation of hearing one who had words by heart. This was her burden,
more or less. "I am very unhappy about a certain person. It is Captain
Maxfield. I am engaged to him, and want to break it off. I must do
that--I must indeed. If I don't I shall do a more dreadful thing. I do
hope you will help me. Mrs. ----, my friend, was sure that you would. I
do hope so. I am very unhappy." She had commanded her voice until the
very end; but as she pitied herself there came a break in it. I heard
her catch her breath; I thought she would fall,--and so did Mrs.
Stanhope, it was clear, for she went hurriedly forward and put an arm
round her waist. The younger lady drooped to her shoulder; Mrs.
Stanhope inclined her head to the person--not a sign from him, mind
you--and gently withdrew her charge from the ring. The pair then
hurried across the park in the direction of Knightsbridge, and left
me, I may admit, consuming in the fire of curiosity and excitement
which they had lit.

Petitions succeeded, of various interest, but they seemed pale and
ineffectual to me. Before all or nearly all of the waiting throng had
been heard I saw uneasiness spread about it. Face turned to face, head
to head; subtle but unmistakable movements indicated unrest. Then, of
the suddenest, am