He saw again the old home, every inch of which was familiar to him as
his own name; he reconstructed in his thought all the old well-known
furniture, and replaced it precisely as it had stood long ago. He passed
again a childish finger over the rough surface of the faded Utrecht
velvet chairs, and smelled again the strong fragrance of the white lilac
tree, blowing in through the open parlour-window. He savoured anew the
pleasant mental atmosphere produced by the dainty neatness of cultured
women, the companionship of a few good pictures, of a few good books.
Yet this home had been broken up years ago, the dear familiar things had
been scattered far and wide, never to find themselves under the same
roof again; and from those near relatives who still remained to him he
lived now hopelessly estranged.

Then came the past of his first love-dream, when he worshipped at the
feet of Nora Beresford, and, with the whole-heartedness of the true
fanatic, clothed his idol with every imaginable attribute of virtue and
tenderness. To this day there remained a secret shrine in his heart
wherein the Lady of his young ideal was still enthroned, although it was
long since he had come to perceive she had nothing whatever in common
with the Nora of reality. For the real Nora he had no longer any
sentiment, she had passed altogether out of his life and thoughts; and
yet, so permanent is all influence, whether good or evil, that the
effect she wrought upon his character remained. He recognized tonight
that her treatment of him in the past did not count for nothing among
the various factors which had determined his fate.

Now, the past of only last year returned, and, strangely enough, this
seemed farther removed from him than all the rest. He had been
particularly strong, well, and happy this time last year. Nora was
dismissed from his mind, and he had thrown all his energies into his