ords carefully--"that bodily
imperfections do not a whit blemish the soul or hinder its
operations--are, in short, an added means of grace. Think of it! Isn't
it a nice, neat, little arrangement, sort of spiritual consolation
stakes! Only I'm afraid I'm some two or three decades on the near side
of that comfortable conclusion yet, and I find----"

Richard shifted his position, letting his arms drop along the chair
arms with a little thud. He smiled again, or at all events essayed to
do so.

"In fact, I find it's beastly difficult to care a hang about your soul,
one way or another, when you clearly perceive your body's making you
the laughing-stock of half the people--why, mother, sweet dear
mother,--what is it?"

For Lady Calmady's two hands had closed down on his hand, and she bowed
herself above them as though smitten with sharp pain.

"Pray don't be distressed," he went on. "I beg your pardon. I wasn't
thinking what I was saying, I'm an ass. It's nothing I tell you but the
weather. You're all a lot too good to me and indulge me too much, and I
grow soft, and then every trifle rubs me the wrong way. I'm a regular
spoilt child--I know it and a jolly good spanking is what I deserve.
Burton, here, declares that the autumnal, like the vernal, equinox
breeds hot humours and distempers in the blood. I believe we ought to
be bled, spring and fall, like our forefathers. Look here, mother,
don't take my grumbling to heart. I tell you I'm just a little hipped
from the weather. Let's send for dear old Knott and get him to drive
out the devil with his lancet? No, no, seriously, I tell you what we
will do. It'll be good for us both. I have arrived at a decision. We'll
have Uncle William and--Helen----"

Richard had spoken very rapidly, half ashamed, trying to soothe her. He
paused on the last word. He was conscious of a singular pleasure in
pronouncing it. The perfectly finished figure of his cousin,
outstanding against the wide, misty brightness of the sunset, the scent
of the wood and moorland, the haunting suggestion of glad secrets, even
that upcurling of blue cigarette smoke, rising as the smoke of
incense--with a difference--upon the clear evening air, above all that
silent flattery of intimate and fearless glances, those gay welcoming
gestures, that merry calling, as of birds in the tree-tops, from the
spirit of youth within him to the spirit of youth so visibly and
radiantly resident in her--all this rose up before R