He looked round, as if challenging the world to say that _Unashamed_ was
not a lurid personal reminiscence.

Sybell was charmed. She felt that none of her previous dinner-parties
had reached such a high level as this one.

"A faithful rendering of a great experience," she repeated. "How I wish
Hester were here to hear that. I often tell her she ought to see life,
and cultivated society would do so much for her. I found her out a year
ago, and I'm always begging people to read her book, and I simply long
to introduce her to clever people and oblige the world to recognize her
talent."

"I agree with you, it is not yet fully recognized," said Hugh, in a
level voice; "but if _The Idyll_ received only partial recognition, it
was, at any rate, enthusiastic. And it is not forgotten."

Sybell felt vaguely uncomfortable, and conceived a faint dislike of Hugh
as an uncongenial person.

The apostle and the poet began to speak simultaneously, but the female
key was the highest, and prevailed.

"We all agree in admiring Miss Gresley's delicate piece of workmanship,"
said the apostle, both elbows on the table after the manner of her kind,
"but it is a misfortune to the cause of suffering humanity--to _our_
cause--when the books which pretend to set forth certain phases of its
existence are written by persons entirely ignorant of the life they
describe."