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A window at the angle of the room opened directly into an octagonal conservatory, enclosing the corner of the building. From the conservatory came voices in conversation Mrs. Swancourt's and the stranger's. She had expected him to talk brilliantly. To her surprise he was asking questions in quite a learner's manner, on subjects connected with the flowers and shrubs that she had known for years.

Swancourt's maid and for the last fortnight Elfride's also; for although the younger lady had never been accustomed to any such attendant at robing times, her stepmother forced her into a semblance of familiarity with one when they were away from home.

East Endelstow was more wooded and fertile: it boasted of Lord Luxellian's mansion and park, and was free from those bleak open uplands which lent such an air of desolation to the vicinage of the coast always excepting the small valley in which stood the vicarage and Mrs. Swancourt's old house, The Crags.

'Indeed, the vicar said, in a voice dry and without inflection. This being a word which depends entirely upon its tone for its meaning, Mr. Swancourt's enunciation was equivalent to no expression at all. 'I have to go now, said Stephen, with an agitated bearing, and a movement as if he scarcely knew whether he ought to run off or stay longer.

On a day about three weeks later, the Swancourt trio were sitting quietly in the drawing-room of The Crags, Mrs. Swancourt's house at Endelstow, chatting, and taking easeful survey of their previous month or two of town a tangible weariness even to people whose acquaintances there might be counted on the fingers.

The ray of daylight which reached her face lent it a blue pallor in comparison with those of the other two. 'I congratulate you, Stephen whispered; and said aloud, 'I know Miss Swancourt a little. You must remember that my father is a parishioner of Mr. Swancourt's. 'I thought you might possibly not have lived at home since they have been here.

That day was an irksome time at Endelstow vicarage. Neither father nor daughter alluded to the departure of Stephen. Mr. Swancourt's manner towards her partook of the compunctious kindness that arises from a misgiving as to the justice of some previous act.

The vicar showed more warmth of temper than the accident seemed to demand, much to Stephen's uneasiness and rather to his surprise. He had not supposed so much latent sternness could co-exist with Mr. Swancourt's frankness and good-nature. 'You shall not be disappointed, said the vicar at length. 'It is almost too long a distance for you to walk.

It required no further effort to perceive what, indeed, reasoning might have foretold as the natural colour of a mind whose pleasures were taken amid genealogies, good dinners, and patrician reminiscences, that Mr. Swancourt's prejudices were too strong for his generosity, and that Stephen's moments as his friend and equal were numbered, or had even now ceased.

One was bringing out the romance and looking for notices in the papers, which, though they had been significantly short so far, had served to divert her thoughts. The other was migrating from the vicarage to the more commodious old house of Mrs. Swancourt's, overlooking the same valley. Mr.