confused as if in the tumult of a struggle. He heard himself
expostulate, 'Ah, Miss Bennett, I fear I set you too difficult a
task.'

The old lady drew abruptly in, like a trustful and gentle snail
into its shocked house. 'Bennett, sir; but my name is not
Bennett.'

And again Lawford accepted the miserable prompting. 'Not
Bennett!... How can I ever then apologise for so frantic a
mistake?'

The little old lady took firm hold of her umbrella. She did not
answer him. 'The likeness, the likeness!' he began unctuously,
and stopped, for the glance that dwelt fleetingly on him was cold
with the formidable dignity and displeasure of age. He raised his
hat and turned miserably home. He strode on out of the last gold
into the blue twilight. What fantastic foolery of mind was
mastering him? He cast a hurried look over his shoulder at the
kindly and offended old figure sitting there, solitary, on the
little seat, in her great bonnet, with back turned resolutely
upon him--the friend of his dead mother who might have proved in
his need a friend indeed to him. And he had by this insane
caprice hopelessly estranged her.

She would remember this face well enough now, he thought
bitterly, and would take her place among his quiet enemies, if
ever the day of reckoning should come. It was scandalous, it was
banal to have abused her trust and courtesy. Oh, it was hopeless
to struggle any more! The fates were against him. They had played