ve
some such experience. But nowadays 'tis the men who can draw pretty
pictures who get recommended, not the practical men. Young prigs win
Institute medals for a pretty design or two which, if anybody tried
to build them, would fall down like a house of cards; then they get
travelling studentships and what not, and then they start as architects
of some new school or other, and think they are the masters of us
experienced ones.'

While Somerset was reflecting how far this statement was true, he heard
the voice of Paula inquiring, 'Who can he be?'

Her eyes were bent on the window. Looking out, Somerset saw in the mead
beyond the dry ditch, Dare, with his photographic apparatus.

'He is the young gentleman who called about taking views of the castle,'
said Charlotte.

'O yes--I remember; it is quite right. He met me in the village and
asked me to suggest him some views. I thought him a respectable young
fellow.'

'I think he is a Canadian,' said Somerset.

'No,' said Paula, 'he is from the East--at least he implied so to me.'

'There is Italian blood in him,' said Charlotte brightly. 'For he spoke
to me with an Italian accent. But I can't think whether he is a boy or a
man.'

'It is to be earnestly hoped that the gentleman does not prevaricate,'
said the minister, for the first time attracted by the subject. 'I
accidentally met him in the lane, and he said something to me about
having lived in Malta. I think it was Malta, or Gibraltar--even if he
did not say that he was born there.'

'His manners are no credit to his nationality,' observed Mrs. Goodman,
also speaking publicly for the first time. 'He asked me this morning to
send him out a pail of water for his process, and before I had turned
away he began whistling. I don't like whistlers.'

'Then it appears,' said Somerset, 'that he is a being of no age, no
nationality, and no behaviour.'

'A complete negative,' added Havill, brightening into a civil sneer.
'That is, he would be, if he were not a maker of negatives well known in
Markton.'

'Not well known, Mr. Havill,' answered Mrs. Goodman firmly. 'For I lived
in Markton for thirty years ending three months ago, and he was never
heard of in my time.'

'He is something like you, Charlotte,' said Paula, smiling playfully on
her companion.

All the men looked at Charlotte, on whose face a delicate nervous blush
thereupon made its appearance.

''Pon my word there is a likeness, now I think of it,' sai