seemed to come from every shadow, and
vanish Heaven knows where. Macheson gripped his companion by the arm.

"Holderness," he cried, "for God's sake let's get out of it. I shall
choke presently. We'll take a side street."

But Holderness held his arm in a grip of iron.

"No," he said, "these are the things which you must feel. I want you to
feel them. I mean you to."

"It's heart-breaking, Dick."

Holderness smiled faintly.

"I know how you feel," he declared. "I've gone through it myself. You
are a Christian, aren't you--almost an orthodox Christian?"

"I am not sure!"

"Don't waste your pity, then," Holderness declared. "God will look after
these. It's the women with the pearl necklaces and the scorn in their
eyes who're looking for hell. Your friend in the electric brougham, for
instance. Can't you see her close her eyes and draw away her skirts if
she should brush up against one of these?"

"It's hard to blame her," Macheson declared.

Holderness looked down at him pityingly.

"Man," he said, "you're a long way down in the valley. You'll have to
climb. Vice and virtue are little else save relative terms. They number
their adherents by accident rather than choice."

"You mean that it is all a matter of temptation?"

Holderness laughed. They had passed into the land of silent streets.
Their own rooms were close at hand.

"Wait a little time," he said. "Some day you'll understand."

CHAPTER XVIII

LETTY'S DILEMMA

"You are quite sure," the girl said anxiously, "that Miss Thorpe-Hatton
wants to see me? You see there's a train at ten o'clock I could catch."

The housekeeper looked up from the menu she was writing, and tapped the
table impatiently with her pencil.

"My dear child," she said, "is it likely I should keep you here without
orders? We have sent a telegram to your mother, and you are to wait
until the mistress is ready to see you."

"What time does she generally get down?" Letty asked.

"Any time," Mrs. Brown answered, resuming her task. "She was back early
last night, only stayed an hour at the ball, so she may send for you at
any moment. Don't fidget about so, there's a good girl. I'm nervous this
morning. We've twenty-four people dining, and I haven't an idea in my
head. I'm afraid I shall have to send for Francois."

"Is Francois the man-cook who comes down to Thorpe?" Letty asked.

Mrs. Brown nodded.

"The _chef_ you should call him," she answered. "A very clever man,