"But of course you don't, you can't, feel with us, Mr. Lester. You're a
Liberal."

"No!" he protested mildly, raising his eyes in surprise. "I really don't
agree with Coryston at all. I don't intend to label myself just yet, but if
I'm anything I think I'm a Conservative."

"But you think other things matter more than politics?"

"Ah yes," he said, smiling, "that I do. Especially--" He stopped.

"Especially--for women?" The breaking of Marcia's delightful smile answered
his. "You see, I guessed what you meant to say. What things? I think I
know."

"Beauty--poetry--sympathy. Wouldn't you put those first?"

He spoke the words shyly, looking down upon her.

There was something in the mere sound of them that thrilled, that made
a music in the girl's ears. She drew a long breath, and suddenly, as he
raised his eyes, he saw her as a white vision, lit up, Rembrandt-like,
in the darkness, by the solitary light--the lines of her young form, the
delicate softness of cheek and brow, the eager eyes.

She held out her hand.

"Good night. I shall see what Meredith has to say about it!"