usual refinement of enunciation
and suavity of manner.

"There is a term to the curse, a saviour who, according to the old
prediction, has the power, should he also have the will, to remove it
altogether."

"Oh, really, is that so! And when does this saviour put in an
appearance?" the doctor asked again.

"That is not revealed."

Julius would very gladly have said nothing further. But Dr. Knott's
expression was curiously intent and compelling, as he sat fingering the
stem of his wine-glass. All the ideality of Julius's nature rose in
protest against the half-sneering rationalism he seemed to read in that
expression. Mrs. Ormiston, who had an hereditary racial appreciation of
anything approaching a fight, turned her round eyes first on one
speaker and then on the other provokingly, inciting them to more
declared hostilities, while she bit her lips in her effort to avoid
spoiling sport by untimely laughter or speech.

"But unhappily," Julius proceeded, yielding under protest to these
opposing forces, "the saviour comes in so questionable a shape, that I
fear, whenever the appointed time may be, his appearance will only be
welcomed by the discerning few."

"That's a pity," Dr. Knott said. He paused a minute, passed his hand
across his mouth. "Still, if we are to believe the Bible, and other
so-called, sacred histories, it's been the way of saviours from the
beginning to try the faith of ordinary mortals by presenting themselves
under rather queer disguises." He paused again, drawing in his wide
lips, moistening them with his tongue. "But since you evidently know
all about it, Mr. March, may I make bold to inquire in what special
form of fancy dress the saviour in question is reported as likely to
present himself?"

"He comes as a child of the house," Julius answered, with dignity. "A
child who in person--if I understand the wording of the prophecy
aright--is half angel, half monster."

John Knott opened his mouth as though to give passage to some very
forcible exclamation. Thought better of it and brought his jaws
together with a kind of grind. His heavy figure seemed to hunch itself
up as in the recoil from a blow.

"Curious," he said quietly. Yet Julius, looking at him, could have
fancied that his weather-beaten face went a trifle pale.

But Mrs. Ormiston, in the interests of a possible fight, had contained
herself just as long as was possible. Now she clapped her hands, and
broke into a little scream of la