iscussing. A woman without that religion would be like a
scentless blossom to me."

The Countess smiled and raised her brows slightly. This severe young
officer, her friend's son, took himself and his tastes very
seriously.

Looking at him she fancied she could detect both the hawk and the dove
meeting in those clear, level eyes of his. Though youthful, she could
see in him the steadiness of the only son--the head of the house--the
protector and the adored of his mother and sister, who were good
little women, flattering their men folks by their dependence. And from
that picture the lady who was studying him passed on to the picture of
the possible bride to whom he would some day fling his favors. She,
also, must be adoring and domestic and devout. Her articles of faith
must be as orthodox as his affection. He would love her, of course,
but must do the thinking for the family.

Because the Lieutenant lacked the buoyant, adaptable French
temperament of his mother, the Countess was inclined to be rather
severe in her judgment of him. He was so young; so serious. She did
not fancy young men except in the pages of romances; even when they
had brains they appeared to her always over-weighted with the
responsibility of them.

It is only after a man has left his boyhood in the distance that he
can amuse a woman with airy nothings and make her feel that his words
are only the froth on the edge of a current that is deep--deep!

Mrs. McVeigh, unconscious of the silent criticism being passed on
her son, again poised a lance in defence of the stranger under
discussion.

"It is absurd to call her atheistical," she insisted; "would I be
influenced by such a person? She is an enthusiast, student of many
religions, possibly; but people should know her before they judge, and
you, Kenneth, should see her before you credit their gossip. She is a
beautiful, sympathetic child, oppressed too early with the seriousness
of life."

"At any rate, I see I shall never take you home heart whole," he
decided, and laughed as he gathered up letters he had been addressing
and left the room.

"One could fancy your son making a tour of the world and coming back
without a sentimental scratch," said the Countess, after he had gone.
"I have noticed him with women; perfectly gallant, interested and
willing to please, but not a flutter of an eyelid out of form; not a
tone of the voice that would flatter one. I am not sure but that the
women are all