ursuit by the lady in question on to the parade ground,
armed with an umbrella in one hand and a poker in the other, had not
tended towards steadiness in the ranks. In fact, something like alarm
and despondency had been caused amongst all concerned--especially
Binks. . . .

"Lord! old man," muttered his master, "here we are." Vane turned in at
the gate of No. 14 and rang the bell. There was an unpleasant sinking
feeling in the pit of his stomach and he nervously dried his left hand
on his handkerchief.

"Pray Heaven she doesn't cry," he said to himself fervently, and at
that moment the door opened. A pale, grave-eyed woman in black
confronted him, and after a moment or two she smiled very slightly and
held out her hand. Vane took it awkwardly.

"It is good of you to take the trouble to come, Captain Vane," she said
in a singularly sweet voice. "Won't you come inside?"

He followed her into the small drawing-room and sat down. It was
scrupulously clean, and it was more than that--it was homely. . . . It
was the room of a woman who loved beautiful things, and who had with
perfect taste banished every single object which might jar on the
fastidious mind. It struck Vane that it was probably a unique room in
Culman Terrace; he felt certain that the rest of the house was in
keeping. . . .

"What a charming room," he said involuntarily, and it was only when she
looked at him with a little lift of her eyebrows that he realised she
might regard the remark as impertinent. Why shouldn't the room be
charming? . . .

But Mrs. Vernon quickly removed his embarrassment. "It's always been a
passion of mine--my house," she said quietly. "And now--more than
ever. . . . It's a duty, even, though a pleasant one---- After all,
whatever may go on outside, whatever wretchedness worries one--it's
something to have a real sanctuary to come to. I want the children to
feel that--so much. I want them to love the beautiful things in life,"
she went on passionately, "even though they live in these
surroundings." She stared out of the window for a moment, and then she
turned with a sudden quick movement to Vane. "But, forgive me. I
don't know why I should inflict my ideas on you. Will you tell me
about Philip?"

It was the moment he had been dreading, and yet, now that it had come,
he found it easier than he had expected. There was something about
this quiet, steadfast woman which told him that she would not make a
scene