llantly.

"To the station, William," he ordered the chauffeur, "and then get
back for me as quickly as you can."

The car swung off. Saton stood watching it with darkening face. There
was some pity in his heart for this somewhat _passee_ young person,
who had been kind to him during those first few weeks of his
re-entering into life. He recognised the fact that his swift progress
was unfortunate for her. He even sat for a moment or two smoking a
cigarette in his very luxurious dressing-room, fingering the
gold-topped bottles of his dressing-case, and wondering what would be
the most effectual and least painful means of coming to an
understanding with her!

CHAPTER VIII

AN INSTANCE OF OCCULTISM

The guests at Beauleys were all grouped together in the hall after
dinner, the men, and some of the women, smoking cigarettes. Coffee and
liqueurs were being served from the great oak sideboard. Lord Guerdon
and his host had drawn a little apart from the others, at the former's
instigation.

"Your friend Saton--extraordinary name, by the bye--seems to have
struck upon an interesting theme of conversation," the judge remarked,
a little drily, glancing across to where Saton stood, surrounded by
most of the other guests.

"He has travelled a great deal," Rochester said, "and he seems to be
one of that extravagant sort of persons who imbibe more or less the
ideas of every country. Chiefly froth, I should imagine, but it gives
him plenty to talk about."

The judge nodded thoughtfully.

"His face," he declared, "still puzzles me a little. Sometimes I am
sure that I have seen it before. At others, I find it quite
unfamiliar."

Rochester, who was watching Pauline, shrugged his shoulders.

"We may as well hear what the fellow is talking about," he remarked.
"Let us join the adoring throng." ...

"I will tell you one thing which I have realized in the course of my
travels," Saton was saying as they drew near. "Amongst all the nations
of the world, we English are at once the most ignorant, and the
slowest to receive a new thing. In the exact sciences, we are perhaps
just able to hold our own, but when it comes to the great unexplored
fields, the average English person turns away with a shrug of the
shoulders. 'I do not believe!' he says stolidly, and that is
sufficient. He does not believe! Since the birth of Time there has
been no more pitiful cry than that."

"One might easily be convinced that the fellow is in