In face of the realities of life she had
known from her youth up the value of the simple verb 'sto--stare-to
stand fast.'
And to her Courtier was a reality, the chief reality of life, the focus
of her aspiration, the morning and the evening star.
The request, then five days after his farewell visit to Mrs. Noel--for
the elephant-hide trunk which accompanied his rovings, produced her
habitual period of seclusion, followed by her habitual appearance in his
sitting-room bearing a note, and some bags of dried rose--leaves on a
tray. She found him in his shirt sleeves, packing.
"Well, Mrs. Benton; off again!"
Mrs. Benton, plaiting her hands, for she had not yet lost something of
the look and manner of a little girl, answered in her flat, but serene
voice:
"Yes, sir; and I hope you're not going anywhere very dangerous this
time. I always think you go to such dangerous places."
"To Persia, Mrs. Benton, where the carpets come from."
"Oh! yes, sir. Your washing's just come home."
Her, apparently cast-down, eyes stored up a wealth of little details;
the way his hair grew, the set of his back, the colour of his braces.
But suddenly she said in a surprising voice:
"You haven't a photograph you could spare, sir, to leave behind? Mr.
Benton was only saying to me yesterday, we've nothing to remember him
by, in case he shouldn't come back.
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