it often, because Tom, in
the words of the family, had for the moment got Beethoven on the
brain--her thoughts and her aspirations were ennobled.

She was singularly content with this existence amid the intimacy of the
Orgreaves. The largeness and prodigality and culture of the family life,
so different from anything she had ever known, and in particular so
different from the desolating atmosphere of the Cedars, soothed and
flattered her in a manner subtly agreeable. At the same time she was but
little irked by it, for the reason that her spirit was not one to be
unduly affected by exterior social, intellectual, and physical
conditions. Moreover, the Orgreaves, though obviously of a class
superior to her own, had the facile and yet aristocratic
unceremoniousness which, unconsciously, repudiates such distinctions
until circumstances arise that compel their acknowledgment. To live
among the Orgreaves was like living in a small private republic that
throbbed with a hundred activities and interests. Each member of it was
a centre of various energy. And from each, Hilda drew something that was
precious: from Mrs. Orgreave, sheer love and calm wisdom; from Janet,
sheer love and the spectacle of elegance; from little Alicia candour and
admiration; from Tom, knowledge, artistic enthusiasm, and shy, curt
sympathy; from Johnnie and Jimmie the homage of their proud and naive
mannishness: as for Mr. Orgreave, she admired him perhaps as much as she
admired even Janet, and once when he and she had taken a walk together
up to Toft End, she had thought him quite exquisite in his attitude to
her, quizzical, worldly, and yet sensitively understanding and humane.
And withal they never worried her by interferences and criticisms; they
never presumed on their hospitality, but left her as free as though her
age had been twice what it was. Undoubtedly, in the ardour of her
gratitude she idealized every one of them. The sole reproach which in
secret she would formulate against them had reference to their quasi-
cynical levity in conversation. They would never treat a serious topic
seriously for more than a few minutes. Either one or another would yield
to the temptation of clever facetiousness, and clever facetiousness
would always carry off the honours in a discussion. This did not apply
to Mrs. Orgreave, who was incapable of humour; but it applied a little
even to Janet.

The thought continually arising in Hilda's mind was: "Why do they ca