a pew directly facing the
monument. The ripe warm colours of afternoon came in upon them from the
west, upon the sallow piers and arches, and the infinitely deep brown
pews beneath, the aisle over Ethelberta's head being in misty shade
through which glowed a lurid light from a dark-stained window behind. The
sentences fell from her lips in a rhythmical cadence one by one, and she
could be fancied a priestess of him before whose image she stood, when
with a vivid suggestiveness she delivered here, not many yards from the
central money-mill of the world, yet out from the very tomb of their
author, the passage containing the words:

'Mammon led them on;
Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell
From heaven.'

When she finished reading Ethelberta left the monument, and then each one
present strayed independently about the building, Ethelberta turning to
the left along the passage to the south door. Neigh--from whose usually
apathetic face and eyes there had proceeded a secret smouldering light as
he listened and regarded her--followed in the same direction and vanished
at her heels into the churchyard, whither she had now gone. Mr. and Mrs.
Belmaine exchanged glances, and instead of following the pair they went
with Mrs. Doncastle into the vestry to inquire of the person in charge
for the register of the marriage of Oliver Cromwell, which was solemnized
here. The church was now quite empty, and its stillness was as a vacuum
into which an occasional noise from the street overflowed and became
rarefied away to nothing.

Something like five minutes had passed when a hansom stopped outside the
door, and Ladywell entered the porch. He stood still, and, looking
inquiringly round for a minute or two, sat down in one of the high pews,
as if under the impression that the others had not yet arrived.

While he sat here Neigh reappeared at the south door opposite, and came
slowly in. Ladywell, in rising to go to him, saw that Neigh's attention
was engrossed by something he held in his hand. It was his pocket-book,
and Neigh was looking at a few loose flower-petals which had been placed
between the pages. When Ladywell came forward Neigh looked up, started,
and closed the book quickly, so that some of the petals fluttered to the
ground between the two men. They were striped, red and white, and
appeared to be leaves of the Harlequin rose.

'Ah! here you are, Ladywell,' he said, recovering himself. 'We had