answered the Poet. "Speaking as a man, I have nothing to regret. No
one could have had a better wife; my children are charming. I have
lived the peaceful existence of the successful citizen. Had I been
true to my trust I should have gone out into the wilderness, the only
possible home of the teacher, the prophet. The artist is the
bridegroom of Art. Marriage for him is an immorality. Had I my time
again I should remain a bachelor."

"Time brings its revenges, you see," laughed Mrs. Camelford. "At
twenty that fellow threatened to commit suicide if I would not marry
him, and cordially disliking him I consented. Now twenty years later,
when I am just getting used to him, he calmly turns round and says he
would have been better without me."

"I heard something about it at the time," said Mrs. Armitage. "You
were very much in love with somebody else, were you not?"

"Is not the conversation assuming a rather dangerous direction?"
laughed Mrs. Camelford.

"I was thinking the same thing, "agreed Mrs. Everett. "One would
imagine some strange influence had seized upon us, forcing us to speak
our thoughts aloud."

"I am afraid I was the original culprit," admitted the Reverend
Nathaniel. "This room is becoming quite oppressive. Had we not
better go to bed?"

The ancient lamp suspended from its smoke-grimed beam uttered a faint,
gurgling sob, and spluttered out. The shadow of the old Cathedral