Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. He said that for him beauty justified life, that he could not imagine a good action that was not a beautiful one nor any beautiful thing that could be altogether bad. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. Try something. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. “She must,” said Mr.
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