o show me. Five years ago he brought me his dream, to read and
care for. Now he brings me the real thing, to read and care for too."
She was evidently preparing to read Flossie as if she had been a new
and beautiful poem.

He was unaware of all this; unaware of everything except the mingled
beatitude and torture of the moment. He sat leaning forward, staring
over his clasped hands at Lucia's feet, where he longed to fall down
and worship. He heard her telling Flossie how glad she was to meet
her; how unexpected was her finding of him here, after fire years; how
five years ago she had known him in Devonshire; and so on. But in his
ears the music of her voice detached itself wholly from the meaning of
her words. Thus he missed the assurance which, if he had only listened
intelligently, they might have had for him; the assurance of an
indestructible friendship that welcomed and enfolded his pretty lady
for his sake.

But whatever her almost joyous acceptance of the pretty lady promised
for the future, it could not be said that, conversationally, Lucia was
getting on very fast with Flossie in the present; and Rickman's
abstraction did not make things easier. Therefore she was a little
relieved when Miss Roots joined them, and Rickman, startled into
consciousness, got up and left the room. He feared that lady's
sympathy and shrewdness. Nothing could be hidden from her clever eyes.

And now, perceiving that the conversation flagged, Miss Roots
endeavoured to support it.

"Have you seen _Metropolis_?" she asked in her tired voice.

Lucia shook her head. "I don't know that I want to see it."

"You'd better not say so before Miss Walker."

"Oh, never mind me," said Miss Walker. "I haven't been yet. Is it
good?"

"Some people seem to think so. It depends."

"Yes; there's such a difference in the way they put them on the stage,
too."

Miss Roots' face relaxed, and her fatigued intelligence awoke.

"Who's on in it?" asked Flossie, happy and unconscious; and the spirit
of mischief seized upon Miss Roots.

"I can't tell you. I'm not well posted in these things. But I think
you'd better not ask Mr. Rickman to take you to see _Metropolis_."

Flossie was mystified, and a little indignant. If the play was so
improper, why had Miss Roots taken for granted that she had seen it?

"That wasn't at all nice of her, was it?" said Lucia, smiling as Miss
Roots went away. Her look was a healing touch laid on Flossie's
wounded van