ntally damning poor, dear Mr. Smith and his friend, as well as the
whole race of coal-dealers, Carron watched Brigit as she talked to Theo
and her other neighbour, Pat Yelverton, who watched her in quite evident
surprise.

"May I be rude and make a personal remark?" he asked her presently. She
smiled. "Yes." Yelverton hesitated, and then said slowly: "You have
changed wonderfully since I last saw you, Lady Brigit."

"You mean that I am not so disagreeable?"

"I mean----"

"I know. And you are right, Mr. Yelverton. I was very horrid, and now I
am--nicer--because I am very happy. It's a selfish reason, but I hope I
can use it as--as a kind of means to a good end."

Yelverton held his breath. Was it possible that the mere fact of being
engaged to a sweet-natured youth like Theo Joyselle could cause such a
miracle as this before his eyes? What was the boy to change Brigit from
a sullen, caustic woman into a charming, lovely young girl?

"I am very glad for you," he said presently, "and for him. I'm a sorry
old stager, Lady Brigit, but it is good to see two young things like you
and Joyselle find each other--in time."

As so often happens, his mood was answering hers, and she remembered
some story she had heard long ago about him and some girl who had
drowned herself.

"Thank you," she said very gently, and turned to Theo, for she had a
manlike fear of intruding on people's secrets. But Yelverton was one of
those unfortunate beings who, when they turn to their sentimental past,
must turn not to the memory of one face, but to a kind of romantic
mosaic of many faces that in time takes on the horrid semblance of a
composite photograph. So it is to be feared that the sad little story of
the girl who drowned herself because he who loved her, made casual and,
so to speak, duty-love to a married woman, had not occurred to him, as
Brigit in her new-found kindliness of supposition, took for granted.

It was a wonderful dinner to the girl; wonderful in the indulgence that
had come over her regarding her _convives_, and in the interesting
things she found it possible to glean from the snatches of talk she
caught from time to time. Alert, bright-eyed, an unwonted smile ever
hovering on her mouth, she listened, and young Joyselle watched her in a
fearful ecstasy of joy.

He felt, in his innocent youth, so old, so wicked, so world-worn for
this radiant angel who had given, herself to him. It was too good to be
true, and he tre