in having bright, smart,
attractive women like that always about.

The lights were visible now in the upper rooms of Father Forbes'
pastorate across the way. Theron paused for a second to consider whether
he wanted to go over and call on the priest. He decided that mentally he
was too fagged and flat for such an undertaking. He needed another sort
of companionship--some restful, soothing human contact, which should
exact nothing from him in return, but just take charge of him,
with soft, wise words and pleasant plays of fancy, and jokes
and--and--something of the general effect created by Sister Soulsby's
eyes. The thought expanded itself, and he saw that he had never realized
before--nay, never dreamt before--what a mighty part the comradeship of
talented, sweet-natured and beautiful women must play in the development
of genius, the achievement of lofty aims, out in the great world of
great men. To know such women--ah, that would never fall to his hapless
lot.

The priest's lamps blinked at him through the trees. He remembered that
priests were supposed to be even further removed from the possibilities
of such contact than he was himself. His memory reverted to that
horribly ugly old woman whom Father Forbes had spoken of as his
housekeeper. Life under the same roof with such a hag must be even worse
than--worse than--

The young minister did not finish the comparison, even in the privacy
of his inner soul. He stood instead staring over at the pastorate, in a
kind of stupor of arrested thought. The figure of a woman passed in view
at the nearest window--a tall figure with pale summer clothes of some
sort, and a broad summer hat--a flitting effect of diaphanous shadow
between him and the light which streamed from the casement.

Theron felt a little shiver run over him, as if the delicate coolness of
the changing night-air had got into his blood. The window was open, and
his strained hearing thought it caught the sound of faint laughter. He
continued to gaze at the place where the vision had appeared, the while
a novel and strange perception unfolded itself upon his mind.

He had come there in the hope of encountering Celia Madden.

Now that he looked this fact in the face, there was nothing remarkable
about it. In truth, it was simplicity itself. He was still a sick man,
weak in body and dejected in spirits. The thought of how unhappy and
unstrung he was came to him now with an insistent pathos that brought
tear