She alone (save Barney Bill) knew of his high destiny--for Paul, quick to recognize the cynical scepticism of an indifferent world, had not revealed the Vision Splendid to any of his associates.

To her he could write; to her, when he was in London, he could talk; to her he could outpour all the jumble of faith, vanity, romance, egotism and poetry that was his very self, without thought of miscomprehension.

And of late she had mastered the silly splenetics of childhood.

He had an uncomfortable yet comforting impression that latterly she had developed an odd, calm wisdom, just as she had developed a calm, generous personality.

The last time he had seen her, his quick sensitiveness had noted the growth from girl to woman.