him nearly mad. He determined to silence her at last.

"One more question, and only one more. What is his father?"

"His father," said Miss Abbott. "Well, I don't suppose
you'll think it a good match. But that's not the point. I
mean the point is not--I mean that social differences--love,
after all--not but what--I--"

Philip ground his teeth together and said nothing.

"Gentlemen sometimes judge hardly. But I feel that you,
and at all events your mother--so really good in every sense,
so really unworldly--after all, love-marriages are made in heaven."

"Yes, Miss Abbott, I know. But I am anxious to hear
heaven's choice. You arouse my curiosity. Is my
sister-in-law to marry an angel?"

"Mr. Herriton, don't--please, Mr. Herriton--a dentist.
His father's a dentist."

Philip gave a cry of personal disgust and pain. He
shuddered all over, and edged away from his companion. A
dentist! A dentist at Monteriano. A dentist in fairyland!
False teeth and laughing gas and the tilting chair at a
place which knew the Etruscan League, and the Pax Romana,
and Alaric himself, and the Countess Matilda, and the Middle
Ages, all fighting and holiness, and the Renaissance, all
fighting and beauty! He thought of Lilia no longer. He was