. How could he
go to church when he knew that he could neither listen to the sermon
nor join in the prayers? "I suppose people do," he said to himself;
"but I can't. I'd go to church all day long, if I found that it would
serve me."

He went up to London on the Monday, and returned to the villa to
dinner. He did the same on the Tuesday. On the Wednesday he remained
in London. On the Thursday he came home, but dined in town. After
that he found himself to be on sufficiently familiar terms with his
niece to fall back into his old habits of life.

Patience was very slow in speaking to their cousin of her father's
peculiarities; but Clarissa soon told the tale. "You'll get to know
papa soon," she said.

"He has been so kind to me."

"He is very good; but you must know, dear, that we are the most
deserted and disconsolate ladies that ever lived out of a poem. Papa
has been home now four days together; but that is for your beaux
yeux. We are here for weeks together without seeing him;--very often
for more than a week."

"Where does he go?"

"He has a place in London;--such a place! You shall go and see it
some day, though he won't thank us a bit for taking you there. He has
the queerest old man to wait upon him, and he never sees anybody from
day to day."

"But what does he do?"

"He is writing a book. That is the great secret. He never speaks
about it, and does not like to be asked questions. But the truth is,
he is the most solitude-loving person in the world. He does find its
charms, though Alexander Selkirk never could."

"And does nobody come here to you?"

"In the way of taking care of us? Nobody! We have to take care of
ourselves. Of course it is dull. People do come and see us sometimes.
Miss Spooner, for instance."

"Why should you laugh at poor Miss Spooner?" asked Patience.

"I don't laugh at her. We have other friends, you know; but not
enough to make the house pleasant to you." After that, when Patience
was not with them, she told something of Ralph Newton and his visits,
though she said nothing to her cousin of her own cherished hopes. "I
wonder what you'll think of Ralph Newton?" she said. Ralph Newton's
name had been mentioned before in Mary's hearing more than once.

"Why should I think anything particular of Ralph Newton?"

"You'll have to think something particular about him as he is a sort
of child of the house. Papa was his guardian, and he comes here just
when he pleases."

"Who is