like the type of an insane dissenting minister in broadcloth which he
had feared. Instead, it was a big man that he saw, stooping a little,
inclined to stoutness, with a full curly beard tinged with grey,
rather overhung brows, and a high forehead, from which the same kind
of curly greyish hair was beginning to retreat. He was in a well-cut
frock-coat and dark trousers, with the collar of the period and a dark
tie.

Lady Laura was in a flutter of welcome, pouring out little sentences,
leading him to a seat, introducing him, and finally pressing
refreshments into his hands.

"It is too good of you," she said; "too good of you, with all your
engagements.... These gentlemen are most anxious.... Mrs. Stapleton of
course you know.... And you will just sit and talk to us ... like
friends ... won't you.... No, no! no formal speech at all ... just a
few words ... and you will allow us to ask you questions...."

And so on.

Meanwhile Laurie observed the high-priest carefully and narrowly, and
was quite unable to see any of the unpleasant qualities he had
expected. He sat easily, without self-consciousness or arrogance or
unpleasant humility. He had a pair of pleasant, shrewd, and rather
kind eyes; and his voice, when he said a word or two in answer to Lady
Laura's volubility, was of that resonant softness that is always a
delight to hear. In fact, his whole bearing and personality was that
of a rather exceptional average man--a publisher, it might be, or a
retired lawyer--a family man with a sober round of life and ordinary
duties, who brought to their fulfillment a wholesome, kindly, but