"Those are my orders.

Good night!" She gave him her hand--a woman's soft and delicate fingers, yet clasping his with an almost virile strength and friendliness.

She left him with just that feeling about her--that she was expansive, in her heart, her sympathies, even her brain and peculiar gifts of apprehension.

She left him, too, with a curious sense of restfulness, as though suddenly he had become metamorphosed into the woman and had found a sorely-needed guardian.

He abandoned without a second thought his intention of going to the smoking-room and sitting up late.