her next words, spoken almost
cheerfully. "It is in the country, in Essex. There are only two
children, quite young. I think I shall succeed better with them; I hope
so."

"Then I suppose," Waymark said, moving a little and keeping his eyes
fixed on her with an uneasy look, "I shall--I must say good-bye to you,
for the last time?"

A scarcely heard "yes" fell from her lips. Her eyes were cast down.

"I am going to make a bold request," Waymark exclaimed, with a sort of
recklessness, though his voice expressed no less respect than hitherto.
"Will you tell me where you are going to?"

She told him, without looking up, and with a recurrence to the timid
manner which had marked her in the schoolroom. This gave Waymark
encouragement; his confidence grew as hers diminished.

"Will you let me write to you--occasionally? Would you let me keep up
our acquaintance in this way,--so that, if you return to London, I
might look forward to meeting you again some time?"

The girl answered timidly--

"I shall be glad to keep up our acquaintance. I shall be glad to hear
from you."

Then, at once feeling that she had gone too far, her confusion made her
pale. Waymark held out his hand, as if to take leave.

"Thank you very much," he said warmly. "I am very grateful."

She gave him a quick "good-bye," and then passed on. Waymark moved at
once in the opposite direction, turning the corner. Then he wished to
go back and notice which house she entered, but would not do so lest
she should observe him. He walked straight forwards.

How the aspect of the world had changed for him in these few minutes;
what an incredible revolution had come to pass in his own desires and
purposes t The intellectual atmosphere he breathed was of his own
creation; the society of cultured people he had never had an
opportunity of enjoying. A refined and virtuous woman had hitherto
existed for him merely in the sanctuary of his imagination; he had
known not one such. If he passed one in the street, the effect of the
momentary proximity was only to embitter his thoughts, by reminding him
of the hopeless gulf fixed between his world and that in which such
creatures had their being. In revenge, he tried to soil the purity of
his ideals; would have persuaded himself that the difference between
the two spheres was merely in externals, that he was imposed upon by
wealth, education, and superficial refinement of manners. Happily he
had never really succeeded i