given themselves up to the same dominion. La destinée est une!'
'I do not see how destiny is one,' said the young woman.
'Here,' said I, 'is the answer for you in eternal words:
'" We are what sun and winds and waters make us."'
'I do not see yet,' she said.
'We are all what we are made. Some of us are made by the sun; and some by the winds; and some by the waters; and some by them all. And that is how, is it not? we have so much in common with one another.'
'And you think,' said Rayne to me, with something of a smile, 'that the children of the sun recognise one another accordingly?'
'I suppose I do,' I said, now a little off the direct scent, 'that is, I think that any given passion, as a rule, expresses itself in the same way in different people; and so one is constantly being struck by resemblances between people, and wondering wherein these resemblances lie. Am I not clear to you. Miss Cholraeley?' I asked.
'You are too subtle for me,' said the young woman,
'I am content to do my duty in that state of life—and the rest: and leave metaphysics to the choice spirits like you, and Sir James, and' (turning her head) 'you, Rayne.'
But it seemed to me that this young woman did not, for some reason, care to have matter of this sort talked now, and had quietly taken steps to stop it.
We went down to dinner soon after, Rayne and I, and Sir James and Miss Cholmeley: we two so far ahead, that I could say to her, in an odd, unnatural way, that I did not know she had any relation … like Miss Cholmeley.
'Miss Cholmondeley is no relation of mine,' she said quietly, as we passed through the dining-room door, 'our names are spelt differently.'
And there the big, liveried dolls stood by.
'C-h-o-l-m-o-n-d,' said I half to myself, the actor's sense growing in me, 'ah—I beg your pardon!'
