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He could see no beauty in the simplicity of the girls' Palace Beautiful, but although he was quite incapable of judging of the value of the pictures and exquisite little statuettes which adorned the walls, he was judge enough of the depth and richness of the Turkey rugs, and of the wealth which must have been expended over the very select furniture of Noel's sitting-room.

The heart of her whose boys were out there too, and might also never have another leave; could not but be responsive to those words. She looked at her niece, and a dim appreciation of this revolt of life menaced by death, of youth threatened with extinction, stirred in her. Noel's teeth were clenched, her lips drawn back, and she was staring in front of her. "Daddy oughtn't to mind.

The words were hardly uttered before Hilda's light step sounded outside, and her hand tried the door. Chris started violently, and cowered among her cushions. Noel chuckled softly. "Chris dear, what is the matter? Let me in!" Anxiety and persuasion were mingled in Hilda's voice. Noel's chuckle became audible. "She isn't going to. She doesn't want anyone but me. Do you, Chris?"

Noel's voice was imperious. She answered him instantly, seeing he demanded it. "Yes." Noel drew a deep breath. "Thank God for that!" he said. "Then you are free'" Olga was silent. "You are free?" he repeated, with quick interrogation. Yet an instant longer she hesitated. Then she leaned her head against his pillow with a little sob. "No, I'm not free, Noel. I have given myself to you!"

He thought of people as individuals, and it was, as it were, by accident that he had conceived the class generalization which he had fired back at Miltoun from Mrs. Noel's window. Sanguine, accustomed to queer environments, and always catching at the moment as it flew, he had not to fight with the timidities and irritations of a nervous temperament.

In the other part of the room women were crying and men deeply cursing; but there near the table no one uttered a sound, till the ragged creature on the floor sprang up crying hoarsely for a pail of water. Noel's figure passed through the open window as he did so, smoothly, unfalteringly, and so out upon the dark verandah. Deftly, warily, he made his way.

With the hope of getting this view confirmed, they lay in wait for the old nurse who took the baby out, and obtained the information, shortly imparted: "Oh, yes; Miss Noel's. Her 'usband was killed poor lamb!" And they felt rewarded. They had been sure there was some mistake. The relief of hearing that word "'usband" was intense.

Only another three verses! Noel's little finger unhooked itself, but her eyes stole round to young Morland's eyes, and there was a light in them which lingered through the singing and the prayers. At last, in the reverential rustle of the settling congregation, a surpliced figure mounted the pulpit. "I come not to bring Peace, but a sword." Pierson looked up. He felt deep restfulness.

"I'm a thief, sure!" replied Peg with a little laugh. "You're the the sweetest dearest " he suddenly checked himself. His mother had come across to say "Good night" to Peg. In a few moments his sisters joined them. They all pressed invitations on Peg to call on them at "Noel's Folly" and with Mrs. Chichester's permission, to stay some days.

"I suppose you think," she said, "that we were not chased by a bull." "I am sure you were." "Indeed! Ah! But I've something else to talk to you about." Mrs. Noel's face quivered back, as a flower might when it was going to be plucked; and again Lady Casterley put her handkerchief to her lips. This time she rubbed them hard. There was nothing to come off; to do so, therefore, was a satisfaction.