gilt frames and hang them up in rows in their square

rooms. We haven't any. People grew tired of that
sort of thing."

"But what did you think I meant?"
She put a finger significantly on a cheek whose glow

was above suspicion, and smiled and looked very arch
and pretty and inviting. "And here," and she

indicated her eyelid.
Graham had an adventurous moment. Then a

grotesque memory of a picture he had somewhere
seen of Uncle Toby and the Widow flashed across his

mind. An archaic shame came upon him. He
became acutely aware that he was visible to a great

number of interested people. "I see," he remarked
inadequately. He turned awkwardly away from her,

fascinating facility. He looked about him to meet a
number of eyes that immediately occupied themselves

with other things. Possibly he coloured a little.
"Who is that talking with the lady in saffron?" he

asked, avoiding her eyes.
The person in question he learnt was one of the

great organisers of the American theatres just fresh
from a gigantic production at Mexico. His face

reminded Graham of a bust of Caligula. Another
striking looking man was the Black Labour Master.

The phrase at the time made no deep impression, but
afterwards it recurred;--the Black Labour Master?

The little lady, in no degree embarrassed, pointed out
to him a charming little woman as one of the

subsidiary wives of the Anglican Bishop of London. She
added encomiums on the episcopal courage--hitherto

there had been a rule of clerical monogamy--" neither
a natural nor an expedient condition of things. Why

should the natural development of the affections be
dwarfed and restricted because a man is a priest?"

"And, bye the bye," she added, "are you an
Anglican?" Graham was on the verge of hesitating

inquiries about the status of a "subsidiary wife,"
apparently an euphemistic phrase, when Lincoln's return

broke off this very suggestive and interesting conversation.
They crossed the aisle to where a tall man in

crimson, and two charming persons in Burmese costume
(as it seemed to him) awaited him diffidently.

From their civilities he passed to other presentations.
In a little while his multitudinous impressions

began to organise themselves into a general effect. At
first the glitter of the gathering had raised all the

democrat in Graham; he had felt hostile and satirical. But
it is not in human nature to resist an atmosphere of

courteous regard. Soon the music, the light, the play
of colours, the shining arms and shoulders about him,

the touch of hands, the transient interest of smiling
faces, the frothing sound of skillfully modulated voices,

the atmosphere of compliment, interest and respect,
had woven together into a fabric of indisputable pleasure.

Graham for a time forgot his spacious resolutions.
He gave way insensibly to the intoxication of

me position that was conceded him, his manner
became less conscious, more convincingly regal, his

feet walked assuredly" target="_blank" title="ad.确实地；确信地">assuredly, the black robe fell with a bolder
fold and pride ennobled his voice. After all this was

a brilliant interesting world.
His glance went approvingly over the shifting

colours of the people, it rested here and there in kindly
criticism upon a face. Presently it occurred to him

that he owed some apology to the charming little person
with the red hair and blue eyes. He felt guilty of

a clumsy snub. It was not princely to ignore her
advances, even if his policy necessitated their rejection.

He wondered if he should see her again. And
suddenly a little thing touched all the glamour of this

brilliantgathering and changed its quality.
He looked up and saw passing across a bridge of

porcelain and looking down upon him, a face that was
almost immediately hidden, the face of the girl he had

seen overnight in the little room beyond the theatre
after his escape from the Council. And she was looking

with much the same expression of curious expectation,
of uncertain intentness, upon his proceedings.

For the moment he did not remember when he had
seen her, and then with recognition came a vague

memory of the stirring emotions of their first
encounter. But the dancing web of melody about him kept

the air of that great marching song from his memory.
The lady to whom he was talking repeated her

remark, and Graham recalled himself to the
quasiregal flirtation upon which he was engaged.

But from that moment a vague restlessness, a feeling
that grew to dissatisfaction, came into his mind.

He was troubled as if by some half forgotten duty, by
the sense of things important slipping from him amidst

this light and brilliance. The attraction that these
bright ladies who crowded about him were beginning

to exercise ceased. He no longer made vague and
clumsy responses to the subtly amorous advances that

he was now assured were being made to him, and his
eyes wandered for another sight of that face that had

appealed so strongly to his sense of beauty. But he
did not see her again until he was awaiting Lincoln's

return to leave this assembly. In answer to his request
Lincoln had promised that an attempt should be made

to fly that afternoon, if the weather permitted. He had
gone to make certain necessary arrangements.

Graham was in one of the upper galleries in
conversation with a bright-eyed lady on the subject of

Eadhamite--the subject was his choice and not hers.
He had interrupted her warm assurances of personal

devotion with a matter-of-factinquiry. He found her,
as he had already found several other latter-day

women that night, less well informed than charming.
Suddenly, struggling against the eddying drift of

nearer melody, the song of the Revolt, the great song
he had heard in the Hall, hoarse and massive, came

beating down to him.
He glanced up startled, and perceived above him an

__oeil de boeuf__ through which this song had come, and
beyond, the upper courses of cable, the blue haze, and

the pendant fabric of the lights of the public ways. He
heard the song break into a tumult of voices and cease.

But now he perceived quite clearly the drone and
tumult of the moving platforms and a murmur of

many people. He had a vague persuasion that he
could not account for, a sort of instinctive feeling that

outside in the ways a huge crowd' must be watching
this place in which their Master amused himself. He

wondered what they might be thinking.
Though the song had stopped so abruptly, though

the special music of this gathering reasserted itself, the
motif of the marching song, once it had begun,

lingered in his mind.