"
"It is a wicked picture!" Ashe said with what seemed to Maurice
unnecessary emphasis.
The footman regarded the speaker over his shoulder with a smile.
"Oh, that's owin' to your bein' of the cloth, sir," was his comment.
"They don't generally feel to own to likin' it; but they mostly notices
it."
A superb screen of carved and gilded wood stood before an open door
above. When this was reached, the footman slipped noiselessly behind
it, and they heard their names announced.
"Show them in," Mrs. Wilson's voice said.
The lady met them in a wonderful morning gown which seemed to be
chiefly cascades of lace, with bows of carmine ribbon here and there
which brought out the color of the dark eyes and hair of the wearer.
Maurice could hardly have told why he flushed, yet he was conscious of
the feeling that there was something intimate in the costume. To be met
by this beautiful woman, her hand outstretched in greeting, her eyes
shining, her white neck rising out of the foam of laces; to breathe the
air, soft and perfumed, of this room; to be surrounded by this luxury,
these tokens of a life which stinted nothing in the pursuit of
enjoyment; more than all to appreciate by some subtle inner sense the
appealing charm of femininity, the suggestions of domestic intimacies;
all this was to the young deacon to be exposed to influences far more
formidable to the ascetic life than those grosser temptations with
which a stupid fiend assailed St.
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