ned, the walls of the room sprang into view at the sharp
click of the electric lights, and he saw the lecturer, previously a
disembodied voice, making his final bow. As he rose with the others,
he caught a glimpse of many faces already familiar, and felt
unexpectedly at home. Among the crowd he recognized Cardington by the
bishop's side, Cobbens's smiling face, several of his colleagues, and a
number of the students. The tide set toward the door, and they were
carried before it. Not until they reached the less crowded room beyond
did Leigh perceive that Miss Wycliffe was still closely attended by the
companion with whom she had exchanged an occasional whisper at the
lecture.

"You remember Mrs. Parr?" she reminded him.

"I do indeed," he replied, though till now he had received merely the
impression of a face vaguely familiar.

"But you passed me only yesterday on the street without recognition,"
Mrs. Parr complained. "I don't know whether I ought to speak to you or
not."

The tone of her voice, which aimed at charming piquancy and realised
only an airy affectation, attracted his attention, and revamped her
upon his mind as one of the party of star-gazers. Her personality was
acrid and insistent, and he imagined that the friendship between the
two women was of her own making and maintenance. The nature of her
greeting left him no choice but a flat and awkward confession of
absent-mindedness. This trifling irritation, however, was of small
moment compared with the fact that Miss Wycliffe was evidently content
with his company and not disposed to leave him, as she could easily
have done upon a reasonable pretext. The three continued together,
drifting in the same direction through the rooms which now began to
present a bewildering spectacle of changing groups and colours. Their
talk was the usual art jargon which the recent lecture suggested, but
in this Leigh bore perforce a subordinate part. It was Mrs. Parr who
appealed to him from time to time for a confirmation of her views
concerning composition, drawing, and high lights, and each appeal
presented itself to him as an interruption. At last he was merely
relieved to find that she had disappeared. Miss Wycliffe regarded him
with a curious look, in which disapproval of his unconscious rudeness
was mitigated by an indulgent appreciation of its cause.

"You 've succeeded in driving her away at last," she said, with a touch
of severity.

He divined tha