himself both in
his craft, like Demetrius of Ephesus, and in his heart. Perhaps Divine
punishment for his idolatries had come.

2. X. SHE FAILS TO VANISH STILL

Pierston had not turned far back towards the castle when he was
overtaken by Somers and the man who carried his painting lumber. They
paced together to the door; the man deposited the articles and went
away, and the two walked up and down before entering.

'I met an extremely interesting woman in the road out there,' said the
painter.

'Ah, she is! A sprite, a sylph; Psyche indeed!'

'I was struck with her.'

'It shows how beauty will out through the homeliest guise.'

'Yes, it will; though not always. And this case doesn't prove it, for
the lady's attire was in the latest and most approved taste.'

'Oh, you mean the lady who was driving?'

'Of course. What, were you thinking of the pretty little cottage-girl
outside here? I did meet her, but what's she? Very well for one's
picture, though hardly for one's fireside. This lady--'

'Is Mrs. Pine-Avon. A kind, proud woman, who'll do what people with
no pride would not condescend to think of. She is leaving Budmouth
to-morrow, and she drove across to see me. You know how things seemed to
be going with us at one time? But I am no good to any woman. She's
been very generous towards me, which I've not been to her.... She'll
ultimately throw herself away upon some wretch unworthy of her, no
doubt.'

'Do you think so?' murmured Somers. After a while he said abruptly,
'I'll marry her myself, if she'll have me. I like the look of her.'

'I wish you would, Alfred, or rather could! She has long had an idea
of slipping out of the world of fashion into the world of art. She is a
woman of individuality and earnest instincts. I am in real trouble about
her. I won't say she can be won--it would be ungenerous of me to say
that. But try. I can bring you together easily.'

'I'll marry her, if she's willing!' With the phlegmatic dogmatism that
was part of him, Somers added: 'When you have decided to marry, take the
first nice woman you meet. They are all alike.'

'Well--you don't know her yet,' replied Jocelyn, who could give praise
where he could not give love.

'But you do, and I'll take her on the strength of your judgment. Is she
really handsome?--I had but the merest glance. But I know she is, or she
wouldn't have caught your discriminating eye.'

'You may take my word for it; she looks as well at hand