“Not a doubt of it,” said Atherley.

“Do not believe him, Cecilia,” said Lady Atherley:  “he thinks there is no one in the world like you.”

“Fortunately for the world,” said Atherley; “any more of the sort would spoil it.  But I am not going to stay here to be bullied by two women at once.  Rather than that, I will go and write letters.”

He went, and soon afterwards Lady Atherley followed him.

Then the two little boys came in with Tip.

“We are not allowed to take him upstairs,” explained Harold, “so we thought he might stay with you and Mr. Lyndsay for a little, till Charles comes for him.”

“If you would let him lie upon your dress, Aunt Cissy,” suggested Denis; “he would like that.”

Accordingly he was carefully settled on the outspread folds of the serge gown; and after the little boys had condoled with him in tones so melancholy that he was affected almost to tears, they went off to supper and to bed.

Silence followed, broken only by the ticking of the clock and the wailing of the wind outside.  Mrs. de Noel gazed into the fire with intent and unseeing eyes.  Its warm red light softly illumined her whole face and figure, for in her abstraction she had let the hand-screen fall, and was stroking mechanically the little sleek head that nestled against her.  Meantime I stared attentively at her, thinking I might do so without offence, seeing she had forgotten me and all else around her.  Once, indeed, as if rising for a minute to the surface, with eyes that appeared to waken, she looked up and encountered my earnest gaze, but without shade of displeasure or discomfiture.  She only smiled upon me, placidly as a sister might smile upon a brother, benignly as one might smile upon a child, and fell into her dream again.  It was a wonderful look, especially from a woman, as unique in its complete unconsciousness as in its warm goodwill; it was as soothing as the touch of her fine soft fingers must have been on Tip’s hot head.  I felt I could have curled myself up, as he did, at her feet and slept on—­for ever.  But, alas! the clock was checking the flying minutes and chanting the departing quarters, and presently the dressing-bell rang, Mrs. de Noel stirred, gave a long sigh, and, plainly from the fulness of her heart and of the thoughts she had so long been following, said—­

“Mr. Lyndsay, is it not strange?  So many people from the great world come and ask me if there is any God.  Really good people, you know, so honourable, so generous, so self-sacrificing.  It is just the same to me as if they should ask me whether the sun was shining, when all the time I saw the sunshine on their faces.”

“By the way,” said Atherley that night after dinner, when Mrs. Molyneux was not present, “where are you going to put Cissy to-night?  Are you going to make a bachelor of her too?”

“Oh, such an uncomfortable arrangement!” said Lady Atherley.  “But Lucinda has set her heart on having Cecilia near her; so they have put up a little bed in the dressing-room for her.”