ked up beneath
the trees on her way homewards--checked and soothed now somewhat by
the pleasant air and the radiant sunlight, yet perceptible beneath
everything. And it was not only of Laurie Baxter that she thought; she
spared a little attention for herself.

For she had begun to be aware, for the first time since her
initiation, of a very faint distaste--as slight and yet as suggestive
as that caused by a half-perceived consciousness of a delicately
disagreeable smell. There comes such a moment in the life of cut
flowers in water, when the impetus of growing energy ceases, and a new
tone makes itself felt in their scent, of which the end is certain. It
is not sufficient to cause the flowers to be thrown away; they still
possess volumes of fragrance; yet these decrease, and the new scent
increases, until it has the victory.

So it was now to the perceptions of this lady. Oh! yes. Spiritualism
was very "teaching" and beautiful; it was perfectly compatible with
orthodox religion; it was undeniably true. She would not dream of
giving it up. Only it would be better if Laurie Baxter did not meddle
with it: he was too sensitive.... However, he was coming that evening
again.... There was the fact.

* * * * *

As she turned southwards at last, crossing the road again towards her
own street, it seemed to her that the day even now was beginning to
cloud over. Over the roofs of Kensington a haze was beginning to make
itself visible, as impalpable as a skein of smoke; yet there it was.
She felt a little languid, too. Perhaps she had walked too far. She
would rest a little after lunch, if dearest Maud did not mind; for
dearest Maud was to lunch with her, as was usual on Sundays when the
Colonel was away.

As she came, slower than ever, down the broad opulent pavement of
Queen's Gate, through the silence and emptiness of Sunday--for the
church bells were long ago silent--she noticed coming towards her,
with a sauntering step, an old gentleman in frock coat and silk hat of
a slightly antique appearance, spatted and gloved, carrying his hands
behind his back, as if he were waiting to be joined by some friend
from one of the houses. She noticed that he looked at her through his
glasses, but thought no more of it till she turned up the steps of her
own house. Then she was startled by the sound of quick footsteps and
a voice.

"I beg your pardon, madam ..."

She turned, with her key in the door, a