him as one of the master minds that dominated humanity. "He is the
chosen Gamaliel at whose feet I could sit for ever," he would say;
"on every subject he speaks well and wisely;" and once, when he was
strolling through Kensington Gardens with his sister-friend, Anna
Sheldon, he had electrified her by quoting a favourite passage from
his essay on friendship.

"Friendship requires that rare mean betwixt likeness and unlikeness
that piques each with the presence of power and of consent in the
other party. Let me be alone to the end of the world, rather than
that my friend should overstep, by a word or look, his real
sympathy. I am equally baulked by antagonism and by compliance. Let
him not cease an instant to be himself.... Better be a nettle in the
side of your friend than his echo."

Malcolm had uttered the last sentence in rather a tragic tone, but
he was somewhat offended when the girl laughed. "What an odd idea!"
she observed innocently. "I should strongly object to anything so
stinging as a nettle; perhaps it is because I am a woman that I
should prefer the echo;" but Malcolm, who had received a douche of
cold water from this feminine criticism, declined to be drawn into a
discussion on the subject.

"Women are so illogical," he muttered angrily, and Anna's heaven of
content was suddenly clouded. Malcolm's approval was vitally
necessary to her happiness--a chilling word from him had power to
spoil the fairest landscape and blot out the sunshine; nevertheless
she took her rebuff meekly and without retort.

A mere chance, an accident in the destinies of both men, had brought