ssuade him from attempting to
see my niece."

"Influence!" said Dawney; "you know Harz!"

Mrs. Decie's voice hardened.

"Everybody," she said, "has his weak points. This young man is open
to approach from at least two quarters--his pride is one, his work
an other. I am seldom wrong in gauging character; these are his vital
spots, and they are of the essence of this matter. I'm sorry for him,
of course--but at his age, and living a man's life, these things--" Her
smile was extra pale. "I wish you could give me something for my head.
It's foolish to worry. Nerves of course! But I can't help it! You
know my opinion, Dr. Dawney. That young man will go far if he remains
unfettered; he will make a name. You will be doing him a great service
if you could show him the affair as it really is--a drag on him, and
quite unworthy of his pride! Do help me! You are just the man to do it!"

Dawney threw up his head as if to shake off this impeachment; the curve
of his chin thus displayed was imposing in its fulness; altogether he
was imposing, having an air of capability.

She struck him, indeed, as really scared; it was as if her mask of smile
had become awry, and failed to cover her emotion; and he was puzzled,
thinking, 'I wouldn't have believed she had it in her....' "It's not an
easy business," he said; "I'll think it over."

"Thank you!" murmured Mrs. Decie. "You are most kind."

Passing the schoolroom, he looked in through the open door. Christian
was sitting there. The sight of her face shocked him, it was so white,
so resolutely dumb. A book lay on her knees; she was not reading, but
staring before her. He thought suddenly: 'Poor thing! If I don't say
something to her, I shall be a brute!'

"Miss Devorell," he said: "You can reckon on him."

Christian tried to speak, but her lips trembled so that nothing came
forth.

"Good-night," said Dawney, and walked out....

Three days later Harz was sitting in the window of his studio. It was
the first day he had found it possible to work, and now, tired out,
he stared through the dusk at the slowly lengthening shadows of the
rafters. A solitary mosquito hummed, and two house sparrows, who had
built beneath the roof, chirruped sleepily. Swallows darted by the
window, dipping their blue wings towards the quiet water; a hush had
stolen over everything. He fell asleep.

He woke, with a dim impression of some near presence. In the pale
glimmer from innumerable stars, the room