eir
advance as girls being lost in their recession as matrons; so that they
move up and down the stream of intellectual development like flotsam
in a tidal estuary. And this perhaps not by reason of their faults as
individuals, but of their misfortune as child-rearers.

The landscape-painter, now an Academician like Pierston himself--rather
popular than distinguished--had given up that peculiar and personal
taste in subjects which had marked him in times past, executing instead
many pleasing aspects of nature addressed to the furnishing householder
through the middling critic, and really very good of their kind. In this
way he received many large cheques from persons of wealth in England and
America, out of which he built himself a sumptuous studio and an awkward
house around it, and paid for the education of the growing maidens.

The vision of Somers's humble position as jackal to this lion of a
family and house and studio and social reputation--Somers, to whom
strange conceits and wild imaginings were departed joys never to
return--led Pierston, as the painter's contemporary, to feel that
he ought to be one of the bygones likewise, and to put on an air of
unromantic bufferism. He refrained from entering Avice's peninsula for
the whole fortnight of Somers's stay in the neighbouring town, although
its grey poetical outline--'throned along the sea'--greeted his eyes
every morn and eve across the roadstead.

When the painter and his family had gone back from their bathing
holiday, he thought that he, too, would leave the neighbourhood. To do
so, however, without wishing at least the elder Avice good-bye would be
unfriendly, considering the extent of their acquaintance. One evening,
knowing this time of day to suit her best, he took the few-minutes'
journey to the rock along the thin connecting string of junction, and
arrived at Mrs. Pierston's door just after dark.

A light shone from an upper chamber. On asking for his widowed
acquaintance he was informed that she was ill, seriously, though not
dangerously. While learning that her daughter was with her, and further
particulars, and doubting if he should go in, a message was sent down to
ask him to enter. His voice had been heard, and Mrs. Pierston would like
to see him.

He could not with any humanity refuse, but there flashed across his mind
the recollection that Avice the youngest had never yet really seen
him, had seen nothing more of him than an outline, which m