warmly. "We should like to see you at the house any time you can
make it convenient to come, would we not Mabel?"

Mrs Cheney gave a formal assent to her husband's words as they turned
away, leaving Joy with the rector. And a scene in one of life's
strangest dramas had been enacted, unknown to them all.

"I would like you to be very friendly with that girl, Alice," Mr
Cheney repeated as they seated themselves in the carriage. "She has
a rare face, a rare face, and she is highly gifted. She reminds me
of someone I have known, yet I can't think who it is. What do you
know about her, Baroness?"

The Baroness gave an expressive shrug. "Since you admire her so
much," she said, "I rather hesitate telling you. But the girl is of
common origin--a grocer's daughter, and her mother quite an inferior
person. I hardly think it a suitable companionship for Alice."

"I am sure I don't care to know her," chimed in Alice. "I thought
her quite bold and forward in her manner."

"Decidedly so! She seemed to hang on to your father's hand as if she
would never let go," added Mabel, in her most acid tone. "I must
say, I should have been horrified to see you act in such a familiar
manner toward any stranger." A quick colour shot into Preston
Cheney's cheek and a spark into his eye.

"The girl was perfectly modest in her deportment to me," he said.
"She is a lady through and through, however humble her birth may be.
But I ought to have known better than to ask my wife and daughter to