in my estimation.

"How can I help it, sir?"

An odd man, with a personal appearance that might excite a prejudice
against him, in some minds. I failed to see it myself in that light. It
struck me, as I walked home, that Cristel might have made many a worse
friend than the retired prize-fighter.

A change in my manner was of course remarked by Mrs. Roylake's ready
observation. I told her that I had been annoyed, and offered no other
explanation. Wonderful to relate, she showed no curiosity and no
surprise. More wonderful still, at every fair opportunity that offered,
she kept out of my way.

My next day's engagement being for seven o'clock in the evening, I put
Mrs. Roylake's self-control to a new test. With prefatory excuses, I
informed her that I should not be able to dine at home as usual.
Impossible as it was that she could have been prepared to hear this, her
presence of mind was equal to the occasion. I left the house, followed by
my stepmother's best wishes for a pleasant evening.

Hoping to speak with Cristel alone, I had arranged to reach the cottage
before seven o'clock.

On the river-margin of the wood, I was confronted by a wild gleam of
beauty in the familiar view, for which previous experience had not
prepared me. Am I wrong in believing that all scenery, no matter how
magnificent or how homely it may be, derives a splendor not its own from
favouring conditions of light and shade? Our gloomy trees and our
repellent river presented an aspect superbly transfigured, under the
shadows of the towering clouds, the fantastic wreaths of the mist, and
the lurid reddening of the sun as it stooped to its setting. Lovely
interfusions of sobered color rested, faded, returned again, on the upper
leaves of the foliage as they lightly moved. The mist, rolling
capriciously over the waters, revealed the grandly deliberate course of
the flowing current, while it dimmed the turbid earthy yellow that
discolored and degraded the stream under the full glare of day. While my
eyes followed the successive transformations of the view, as the hour
advanced, tender and solemn influences breathed their balm over my mind.
Days, happy days that were past, revived. Again, I walked hand in hand
with my mother, among the scenes that were round me, and learnt from her
to be grateful for the beauty of the earth, with a heart that felt it. We
were tracing our way along our favorite woodland path; and we found a
companion of tender years