he admired the
sentiment without thinking of the form. And she was embarrassed:
"lovely creature" made explanation awkward to her gentle modesty.

"But can it be," said he, suddenly, "that you really were here?"

"I have to confess that I have been in the room once before," faltered
she. "The woman showed me in, and went away to fetch you; but as she
did not return, I left."

"And you saw me asleep," he murmured, with the faintest show of
humiliation.

"Yes--IF you were asleep, and did not deceive me."

"Why do you say if?"

"I saw your eyes open in the glass, but as they were closed when I
looked round upon you, I thought you were perhaps deceiving me.

"Never," said Fitzpiers, fervently--"never could I deceive you."

Foreknowledge to the distance of a year or so in either of them might
have spoiled the effect of that pretty speech. Never deceive her! But
they knew nothing, and the phrase had its day.

Grace began now to be anxious to terminate the interview, but the
compelling power of Fitzpiers's atmosphere still held her there. She
was like an inexperienced actress who, having at last taken up her
position on the boards, and spoken her speeches, does not know how to
move off. The thought of Grammer occurred to her. "I'll go at once
and tell poor Grammer of your generosity," she said. "It will relieve
her at once."

"Grammer's a nervous disease, too--how singular!" he answered,
accompanying her to the door. "One moment; look at this--it is
something which may interest you."

He had thrown open the door on the other side of the passage, and she
saw a microscope on the table of the confronting room. "Look into it,
please; you'll be interested," he repeated.

She applied her eye, and saw the usual circle of light patterned all
over with a cellular tissue of some indescribable sort. "What do you
think that is?" said Fitzpiers.

She did not know.

"That's a fragment of old John South's brain, which I am investigating."

She started back, not with aversion, but with wonder as to how it
should have got there. Fitzpiers laughed.

"Here am I," he said, "endeavoring to carry on simultaneously the study
of physiology and transcendental philosophy, the material world and the
ideal, so as to discover if possible a point of contrast between them;
and your finer sense is quite offended!"

"Oh no, Mr. Fitzpiers," said Grace, earnestly. "It is not so at all.
I know from seeing your light at night how d