er before felt so sure of it.

The men and women who dine in public at the restaurant of the moment are
usually at their best. Douglas was astonished at the beauty of the
women, their dresses and jewellery, and the flowers with which their
tables were smothered. The gaiety of the place was infectious. He too
began to desire a companion. He thought of Emily de Reuss--how well she
would look at his table, with her matchless art of dressing and
wonderful pearls; he fancied, too, without vanity, that she would
approve of his companionship in his present mood. And from Emily de
Reuss his thoughts wandered on to Cicely. They were the only two women
who had ever held any place in his life. He contrasted them, and grew
thoughtful.

Later, he paid his bill, lighted a cigar and strolled homewards.
Already his brain was at work. The scenes of his story lay stretched
invitingly before him--it seemed that he would only have to take up his
pen and write until exhaustion came. He turned off the Strand, humming
softly to himself, so wrapt in his world of teeming fancies that he did
not notice the little figure in sober black, who looked eagerly into his
face as she approached. He would have passed on but for her timid word
of remonstrance.

"Douglas."

Then he stopped short. It was Cicely.

CHAPTER XXIX

JOAN STRONG FINDS HER BROTHER

Douglas threw away his cigar and held out both his hands. The trouble
passed from Cicely's face. His tone was full of pleasure and his eyes
were radiant.

"What fortune, Cissy," he cried. "You were the last person in my
thoughts. Thank God that I have found you again."

"You are sure you wanted to see me?" she asked, with some timidity.

"Absolutely," he answered.

"I was foolish to run away--that evening."

"It was too bad of you--and to keep away."

"I think that your visitor frightened me, Douglas."

He laughed.

"Then you need have no more fears," he said. "She has gone abroad."

"Do you have many--ladies to see you?" she asked.

"She has never been before or since," he answered.

Cicely laughed.

"I was foolish," she said. "I will ask no more questions."

They had reached the railings, and he pointed downwards to the gardens
below.

"There is an empty seat," he said. "Shall we go there and sit down?"

She nodded.

"Anywhere. Joan is out. I need not go home for an hour."

"Still," he asked, with a grim smile, "searching?"

Cicely did not smile. It was the tragedy