e human eye possesses remarkable power."

"There was something in his eye," said Lalage, "but not that."

"It stopped you though, whatever it was."

"No, it didn't. I wish it had. I might have cleared out at once if it
had."

"If it wasn't a glare, what was it? I can't imagine a better opportunity
for mentioning Miss Battersby."

"He didn't give me time."

"Do you mean to say he pushed you out of the room?"

"No."

"Did he swear? I once heard of an Archdeacon swearing under great
provocation."

"No."

"I can't guess any more, Lalage. I really can't. You'll have to tell me
what it was."

"He said he'd get married with pleasure."

"But not to Miss Battersby. I'm beginning to see now. Who is the
fortunate lady?"

"Me," said Lalage.

"Good heavens, Lalage! You don't mean to say you're going to marry the
Archdeacon?"

"You're as bad as he was," said Lalage angrily. "I won't have such
horrid things said to me. I don't see why I should be insulted by every
one I meet. I wish I hadn't told you. I ought not to have told you. I
ought to have gone on looking for your mother until I found her."

I was immensely, unreasonably relieved. The idea of Lalage marrying the
Archdeacon had been a severe shock to me.

"The Archdeacon's proposal----" I said. "By the way, you couldn't
possibly have been mistaken about it, could you? He really did?"

Lalage blushed hotly.

"He did," she said, "really."

"That just shows," I said, "what a tremendous impression you made on him
with Selby-Harrison's text."

"It wasn't the text at all. He said it had been the dearest wish of his
heart for years. Can you imagine anything more silly?"

"I see now," I said, "why he always took such an interest in everything
you did and went out of his way to try to keep you from getting into
mischief. I think better of the Archdeacon than I ever did before."

"He's a horrid old beast.'"

"You can't altogether blame him, though."

"I can.

"You oughtn't to, for you don't know----"

"I do know."

"No, you don't. Not what I mean."

"What do you mean? I don't believe you mean anything."

"You don't know the temptation."

Lalage stared at me.

"I've often felt it myself," I said.

Lalage still stared. She was usually quick witted, but on this occasion
she seemed to me to be positively dull. I suppose that the nerve storm
through which she had passed had temporarily paralyzed the gray matter
of her brain. I made an effort to ex