to confidence: it denoted a
_camaraderie_ of spirit which was as flattering as it was delightful.

Pat, as usual, recovered his good humour at the sight of food, and
thoroughly enjoyed the simple but well-cooked meal, while Pixie and
Stephen tactfully avoided the subject of their morning's excursion.
Time enough later on to describe the beauties of that Abbey service!

"Moffatt is going out this afternoon. A friend is to call for her and
bring her back this evening. It will be a change for the creature,"
announced Pixie when the meal was finished, and, meeting Pat's eye, she
added quickly, "I'll make tea."

"What about supper?" queried Pat sternly. "If there's a meal in the
week which I enjoy better than another it is Sunday night supper.
What's going to happen about it to-night?"

"'Deed I don't know. Don't fuss! It's beyond me to think two meals
ahead. There's cold meat. ... I'll rummage up something when it comes
to the time."

Pat turned gloomily to his friend.

"_You'd_ better be off, Glynn. I asked you to stay for the day, but in
view of unforeseen circumstances. ... Pixie evidently puts Moffatt's
pleasure before our food."

"_I do_!" cried Pixie sturdily.

Stephen smiled, his bright, transforming smile, and said quickly--

"I'll stay! I'd like to, if you will just excuse me one moment while I
telephone to my man. You have a telephone, I think, in the basement?"

Pixie shuddered.

"They have; in an ice-box, where every draught that was ever born whirls
around your feet, and if you speak loud enough, every maid in the place
will hear what you say. It's quite diverting to listen!"

Stephen went off laughing, and Pixie shook up Pat's pillows, bathed his
hands, and kissed him several times on the tip of his nose, a proceeding
which he considered offensive to his dignity, and then went off to
change the crushable velvet skirt for a house dress of her favourite
rose hue--a quaint little garment made in a picturesque style, which had
no connection whatever with the prevailing fashion. When she returned
to the sitting-room she seated herself on the floor beside the fire, and
Pat, now entirely restored to equanimity and a little ashamed of his
previous ill-humour, himself inquired about the morning's experiences.
Like all the O'Shaughnessys he was intensely musical, and during his
sojourn in London had taken every opportunity to hear all the good
concerts within reach. He now wanted to hear abou