electric bell he had heard ring inside, his mind contained only the
single thought that now he should hear something about Celia. Perhaps he
might even find her there; but he put that suggestion aside as slightly
unpleasant.

The hag-faced housekeeper led him, as before, into the dining-room. It
was still daylight, and he saw on the glance that the priest was alone
at the table, with a book beside him to read from as he ate.

Father Forbes rose and came forward, greeting his visitor with profuse
urbanity and smiles. If there was a perfunctory note in the invitation
to sit down and share the meal, Theron did not catch it. He frankly
displayed his pleasure as he laid aside his hat, and took the chair
opposite his host.

"It is really only a few months since I was here, in this room, before,"
he remarked, as the priest closed his book and tossed it to one side,
and the housekeeper came in to lay another place. "Yet it might have
been years, many long years, so tremendous is the difference that the
lapse of time has wrought in me."

"I am afraid we have nothing to tempt you very much, Mr. Ware," remarked
Father Forbes, with a gesture of his plump white hand which embraced the
dishes in the centre of the table. "May I send you a bit of this boiled
mutton? I have very homely tastes when I am by myself."

"I was saying," Theron observed, after some moments had passed in
silence, "that I date such a tremendous revolution in my thoughts, my
beliefs, my whole mind and character, from my first meeting with you,
my first coming here. I don't know how to describe to you the enormous