“It’s more nourishing, madam,” said Mr. Thrush, with a sudden change from emotion to quiet self-confidence.  “It does more work for the stomach.  A chemist knows.”

“Dear old man!” said Rosamund, when she and Dion were outside in the passage.  “To say all that before nurse—­it was truly generous.”

And she frankly wiped her eyes.  A moment later she added: 

“I pray he doesn’t fall back into his little failing!”

She looked at Dion interrogatively.  He looked at her, understanding, he believed, the inquiry in her eyes.  Before he could say anything the kind and careful voice of Mr. Darlington was heard below, asking: 

“Is Mrs. Dion Leith at home?”

Mr. Darlington was delighted with Little Cloisters.  He said it had a “flavor which was quite unique,” and was so enthusiastic that Rosamund became almost excited.  Dion saw that she counted Mr. Darlington as an ally.  When Mr. Darlington’s praises sounded she could not refrain from glancing at her husband, and when at length their guests got up to go “with great reluctance,” she begged them to come and dine on the following night.

Mr. Darlington raised his ragged eyebrows and looked at Canon Wilton.

“I’m by way of going back to town to-morrow afternoon,” he began tentatively.

“Stay another night and let us accept,” said Canon Wilton heartily.

“But I’m dining with dear Lavinia Berkhamstead, one of my oldest friends.  It’s not a set dinner, but I should hardly like—­”

“For once!” pleaded Rosamund.

Mr. Darlington wavered.  He looked round the room and then at Rosamund and Dion.

“It’s most attractive here,” he murmured, “and Lady Berkhamstead lives in the Cromwell Road, at the far end.  I wonder—­”

“It’s settled!” Rosamund exclaimed.  “Dinner at half-past seven.  We keep early hours here, and Dion goes shooting to-morrow with Robin and may get sleepy towards ten o’clock.”

After explanations about Robin, Mr. Darlington gracefully yielded.  He would wire to dear Lavinia Berkhamstead and explain matters.

As he and Canon Wilton walked back to the Canon’s house he said;

“What dear people those are!”

“Yes, indeed,” said the Canon.

“Happiness has brought out the very best in them both.  Leith is a fine young fellow, and she, of course, is unique, a piece of radiance, as her beautiful mother was.  It does one good to see such a happy household.”

He gently glowed, and presently added: 

“You and I, dear Canon, have missed something.”

After a moment the Canon’s strong voice came gravely out of the winter darkness: 

“You think great happiness the noblest education?”

Mr. Darlington began to pull his beard.

“You mean, my dear Wilton——?”

“Do you think the education of happiness is the education most likely to bring out the greatest possibilities of the soul?”