“Tell me, what did she look like?”

“Well, you know her appearance?  She hasn’t grown stouter her hair hasn’t turned grey.”

“Yet she has changed?”

“Yes, she has changed; but—­I don’t know exactly how to word it—­an extraordinary goodness seems to have come into her face.  It always seemed to me that a great deal of her charm was in the kindness which seemed to float about her and to look out of her eyes, and that look which you know, or which you don’t know—­”

“I know it very well.”

“Well, that look is more apparent than ever.  I noticed it especially as she leaned over the table looking at me.”

“I know, those quiet, kindly eyes, steady as marble.  A woman’s eyes are more beautiful than a man’s because they are steadier.  Yes, it is impossible to look into her eyes and not to love her; her thick hair drawn back loosely over the ears.  There never was anybody so winsome as she.  You know what I mean?”

“How he loves her!” Ulick said to himself; “how he loves her!  All his life is reflected in his love of her.”

“Are you going to see her again?” Owen asked suddenly.

“Well, yes.”

“Did she raise no difficulties?”

“No.”

“You didn’t speak to her about your plans to induce her to accept the engagement?”

“Not yet.”

“Shall you?”

“I suppose so, but I cannot somehow imagine that she will ever go back to the stage.  She said, having made money enough for the nuns, she had finished with the stage for ever, and was glad of it.”

“Once an idea gets into our minds we become the slaves of it, and her mind was always more like a man’s than a woman’s mind.”

This point was discussed, Ulick pretending not to understand Owen’s meaning in order to draw him into confidences.

“She has asked you to go to see her, so I suppose she likes you.  I wish you well. Anything rather than Monsignor should get her.  You have my best wishes.”

“What does he mean by saying I have his best wishes?  Does he mean that he would prefer me to be her lover, if that would save her from religion?  Would he use me as the cat uses the monkey to pull the chestnuts out of the fire, and then take them from me.”  But he did not question Owen as to his meaning, and showed no surprise when a few days afterwards Owen came into the drawing-room, interrupting him in his work, saying: 

“Have you forgotten?”

“Forgotten what?”

“Why, that you have an appointment with Evelyn.”

“So I have, so I have!” he said, laying down his pen.  “And if I don’t hasten, I shall miss it.”

Owen took his hat, saying, “Your hat wants brushing; you mustn’t go to her with an unbrushed hat.”

Ulick ran away north, casting one glance back.  Owen—­would he sit in his study thinking of his lost happiness or would he try to forget it in some picture-dealer’s shop?