no escape, but she made a brave try for it, saying, "And Miss McCall? She returns your feeling?"
"Miss McCall!" Wrath and disapproval spoke in his voice. "Miss McCall, as you have justly observed, is an excellent woman, but I cannot imagine how she, with such a marked lack of grace in mind and person, could fill any man's ideal of a wife."
Virginia felt tempted to remind him that viewed as a husband he was not exactly alluring.
"It is you, Miss Dryden, whom I have long looked upon as my fitting mate. It is impossible that you should be unprepared. Twice a month for two whole years I have visited you"
"Mr. Richards, you are quite right. My stupidity is to blame for this." ("Better shoulder it than tell him I'd as soon have suspected a mummy," she thought.) "The mistake is mine, and I am sincerely sorry it has occurred. The honor you are doing me would make any woman proud and happy"—("I must talk till he has time to remember a few of my faults," she thought hopefully)—"The position you offer is a distinguished one, I must ever feel honored at your choice, but, believe me, I am not worthy of it. I am flippant, superficial, not what you think me."
"Dearest!"—his fatuous grin turned Virginia's sympathy to a thirst for vengeance,—"it is just because of those sweet, womanly weaknesses that I love you so."
("Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried inwardly, "this is too much!")
"You are very kind, Dr. Richards, but I absolutely fail—to—reciprocate, and in such matters my sentiments never change. It is better for me to say this quite plainly, so that your feelings may not become more deeply involved."
He stopped short, surveying her with bitter disfavor. "Then I can only say, Miss Dryden, that I have been strangely mistaken in you. I have the honor of wishing you a very good-afternoon."
When Virginia went in from the wind, dust, and humiliation of the outer world to the firelit glow of her mother's drawing-room she experienced a grateful sense of mental and physical relief. Neither so fragile nor devout as to neglect the duty of being well dressed in a charming elderly style, Mrs. Dryden was making tea at a table bright with old silver. Her delicate fingers busied themselves methodically among the cups, while she listened to the talk of her companion, Father Tessaire.
Of all the spiritual advisers watching over an important convert this one only appealed to Virginia's taste. His gentle ways, spare figure, refined face, and close, clerical garb gave him the air of one of the subtle ecclesiastics who wind their way through the society of
