wonderful pearls; he fancied, too, without vanity, that she would
approve of his companionship in his present mood. And from Emily de
Reuss his thoughts wandered on to Cicely. They were the only two women
who had ever held any place in his life. He contrasted them, and grew
thoughtful.

Later, he paid his bill, lighted a cigar and strolled homewards.
Already his brain was at work. The scenes of his story lay stretched
invitingly before him--it seemed that he would only have to take up his
pen and write until exhaustion came. He turned off the Strand, humming
softly to himself, so wrapt in his world of teeming fancies that he did
not notice the little figure in sober black, who looked eagerly into his
face as she approached. He would have passed on but for her timid word
of remonstrance.

"Douglas."

Then he stopped short. It was Cicely.



CHAPTER XXIX

JOAN STRONG FINDS HER BROTHER

Douglas threw away his cigar and held out both his hands. The trouble
passed from Cicely's face. His tone was full of pleasure and his eyes
were radiant.

"What fortune, Cissy," he cried. "You were the last person in my