"Darling, I know what you mean. Yes, there's a great deal of that
about James Vincent. Even dear Tom was almost polite to him: he
couldn't bear the others: he said that he always thought they were
going to paw him."

"And then his powers," continued Lady Laura--"his powers always seem
to me so much greater. The magnetism is so much more evident."

Mrs. Stapleton finished her hot water.

"We are going on Sunday?" she said questioningly.

"Yes; just a small party. And he comes here tomorrow, you remember,
just for a talk. I have asked a clergyman I know in to meet him. It
seems to me such a pity that our religious teachers should know so
little of what is going on."

"Who is he?"

"Oh, Mr. Jamieson ... just a young clergyman I met in the summer. I
promised to let him know the next time Mr. Vincent came to me."

Mrs. Stapleton murmured her gratification.

These two had really a great deal in common besides their faith. It is
true that Mrs. Stapleton was forty, and her friend but thirty-one; but
the former did all that was possible to compensate for this by adroit
toilette tactics. Both, too, were accustomed to dress in soft
materials, with long chains bearing various emblems; they did their
hair in the same way; they cultivated the same kinds of tones in their