e
entertainment was over she pointedly took leave of him within the
theatre. But while shaking hands with Patty, he saw something in that
young lady's face which caused him to nod and smile.

CHAPTER IX

There came an afternoon early in July when Hilliard, tired with a long
ramble in search of old City churches--his architectural interests
never failed--sought rest and coolness in a Fleet Street tavern of
time-honoured name. It was long since he had yielded to any
extravagance; to-day his palate demanded wine, and with wine he solaced
it. When he went forth again into the roaring highway things glowed
before him in a mellow light: the sounds of Fleet Street made music to
his ears; he looked with joyous benignity into the faces of men and
women, and nowhere discovered a countenance inharmonious with his
gallant mood.

No longer weary, he strolled westward, content with the satisfactions
of each passing moment. "This," he said to himself, "is the joy of
life. Past and future are alike powerless over me; I live in the
glorious sunlight of this summer day, under the benediction of a
greathearted wine. Noble wine! Friend of the friendless, companion of
the solitary, lifter-up of hearts that are oppressed, inspirer of brave
thoughts in them that fail beneath the burden of being. Thanks to thee,
O priceless wine!"

A bookseller's window arrested him. There, open to the gaze of every
pedestrian, stood a volume of which the sight made him thrill with
rapture; a finely illustrated folio, a treatise on the Cathedrals of
France. Five guineas was the price it bore. A moment's lingering,
restrained by some ignoble spirit of thrift which the wine had not
utterly overcome, and he entered the shop. He purchased the volume. It
would have pleased him to carry it away, but in mere good-nature he
allowed the shopman's suggestion to prevail, and gave his address that
the great tome might be sent to him.

How cheap it was--five guineas for so much instant delight and such
boundless joy of anticipation!

On one of the benches in Trafalgar Square he sat for a long time
watching the fountains, and ever and anon letting them lead his eyes
upwards to the great snowy clouds that gleamed upon the profound blue.
Some ragged children were at play near him; he searched his pocket,
collected coppers and small silver, and with a friendly cry of "Holloa,
you ragamuffins!" scattered amazement and delight.

St. Martin's Church told him tha