principles of his nature working at the formation of the man,
and in Mallinson's case they betrayed his habit of drawing the energy for
application from externals, and from no sacred fire within.

He shut his door and worked for a month. At the end of the month, lying
in bed at night and watching a planet visible through his window, he saw
the ray of light between himself and the star divide into two, and the
two beams describe outwards segments of a circle. He turned his face away
for a few moments and then looked at the planet again. The phenomenon was
repeated. He knew it for a trick of tired eyes and a warning to slacken
his labours. On the next afternoon he called at Beaufort Gardens, and was
received warmly by Clarice and her aunt.

There was a suggestion of reproach for his long absence in the former's
voice, and suggestion of reproach from her kindled him. He explained his
plunge under surface on the ground of work. Details were immediately
demanded, the plot of the new novel discussed and praised; there was
flattery too in the diffident criticism of an incident here and there,
and the sweetest foretaste of happiness in the joint rearrangement of the
disputed chapter. Mallinson was lifted on a billow of confidence. He was
of the type which adjusts itself to the opinions his company may have of
him. Praise Mallinson and he deserved praises; ignore him and he sank
like a plummet to depths of insignificance, conscious of insignificance
and of nothing more except a dull rancour against the person who
impressed the knowledge on him. That way Drake had offended unwittingly
at the Grand Hotel; he had recognised no distinction between the
Mallinson of to-day and the Mallinson of ten years ago.

Mallinson was asked to dinner on Friday of the next week.

'Really,' said the aunt after his departure, 'he is very clever. I didn't
understand what he said, but he is very clever.'

'Yes,' said Clarice reflectively, 'I suppose--I mean of course he is.'

She spoke in a tone of hesitation which surprised her auditor, for
hitherto Clarice had been very certain as to her impressions on
the point.

At dinner on the following Friday Mallinson was confronted by Conway and
had Mrs. Willoughby upon his right. Mallinson liked Mrs. Willoughby, the
widow of the black hair and blue eyes, now in the mauve stage of
widowhood. She drew him out of the secretiveness within which he
habitually barred himself, and he felt thankful to her for