anything about them.

"I daresay I have met her somewhere," Mrs. Verdon went on. "I have
either met her or seen her face in a picture. She has quite a
picture-face, hasn't she?"

"Ah, perhaps she has," said Wayne abstractedly, as if the idea had been
presented to him for the first time.

"I must have seen her in a picture." Mrs. Tell noticed that Katherine
seemed bent on keeping to the subject. "There is a painting of a young
woman clasping a Bible to her breast. Don't you know it? That is like
her, I think."

"Ah, very likely," rejoined Arnold in an expressionless voice. "I know a
man who is always painting pictures of that kind. His girls are always
going to suffer for their faith, and they have many costumes, but only
one face. It becomes monotonous."

Mrs. Verdon laughed.

"I had my portrait painted once," she said, "but it wasn't like me--it
was too intense. I couldn't look like that unless my whole nature had
changed. I don't like strong feelings, they make life so uncomfortable."

"Very uncomfortable," assented Mrs. Tell in a lazy voice. "And, besides,
they are undignified. You are always so deliciously calm, Katherine,
that you make people fall in love with repose."

"This house would be a home for the lotus-eaters," said Mrs. Verdon. "I
love perfumes and stillness and subdued light. Jamie exercises his lungs
and legs in the top rooms, but he seldom breaks the tranquillity that
reigns downstairs."

When they sat in the drawing-room after dinner, Arnold mentally decided
that it was very easy to fall in love with repose--for a little while.

Katherine talked to him in her silvery tones, looking at him now and
then with her pretty, faint smile. The folds of the delicate mauve gown
trailed over the rich carpet. She leant lazily back in her chair, waving
a plumy fan, sometimes, with a soft, even motion.

The doors of the conservatory were open; light curtains were looped
back, giving glimpses of a mass of blossoms; the atmosphere was laden
with perfumes. Yes, it was all very pleasant--for a little while.

Arnold Wayne did not try to persuade himself that he should enjoy it
always. His was not the temperament of the lotus-eater. His nature
craved a rich, warm life, full of strong light and shade. Still, he was
glad when Mrs. Verdon told him that she should start for Rushbrook in a
fortnight.

"I have taken The Cedars again," she said. "The air agreed with Jamie
and me last year. We both want to be fres