Mrs.Tyson Kept her talking in the room, and she never forgot the scene.

It showed her a new aspect of a man whose intellectual life was becoming plain to her, while his moral life was still something of a mystery.

The look in Elsmere's face as he sat bending over the maimed young farmer, the strength and tenderness of the man, the diffidence of the few religious things he said, and yet the reality and force of them, struck her powerfully.

He had forgotten her, forgotten everything save the bitter human need, and the comfort it was his privilege to offer.

Catherine stood answering Mrs.Tyson at random, the tears rising in her eyes.