he said.

'But how came you----'

'And a pumpkin has overgrown too. Here--clear out, you've left a moderate
body no room to turn.'

So Christian understood he was to be excluded from full confidence. Loyal
every inch of him, he respected Giles's reserve and never questioned
Rhoda herself. He did but listen.

Clear, colourless years, regulated under convent control, was all the
past she knew; serene, not unhappy, till the lot of a portionless orphan
lay provided for her in a sordid marriage, that her young instinct knew
to be prostitution, though the Church and the world sanctioned it as a
holy estate. To her this blessed transplantation into a very home gave a
new, warm atmosphere that kindled fresh life. The blanch bud expanded and
glowed, fresh, dewy, excellent as the bloom of her name. And very sweet
incense her shy gratitude distilled.

It was to Giles she gave her best affection, to Lois most reverence and
devotion. But to Christian went a subtle tribute, spontaneous even in an
innocent convent-girl, to an admirable make of manhood; some quick
shivers of relief that a certain widower with yellow teeth did not
possess her. And in Christian thrilled an equivalent response; though he
knew not how Rhoda's maiden charm, her winning grace, her shadow even,
her passing breath, evoked unaware, with a keen, blissful sting at heart,
vivid remembrance of the sea-witch Diadyomene.

'She likes the old hunks best of the lot,' said Giles with complaisance.
'My bright little bird! There's never a one of you young fellows stands
to cut me out.'

He cocked an eye at Christian.

'Now Philip comes along, and will have her for seeing the caught
frigate-bird. And off she is flying, when back she skims and will have me
too. Oh! but he looked less than sweet, and he's a fine figure too for a
maid's eye, and a lad of taste--he is.'

'He! May be, for his fancies are ever on the brew, hot or cold,' said
Christian in scorn.

'She's a rare pretty wench, and a good,' said Giles, with a meditative
eye.

'She is: too rare and good for any of Philip's make; an even blend of
conceit and laziness is he.'

'That's so, that's so,' returned Giles coolly to this heat, 'but I don't
say he would make a bad pair for just so much as the boundary walk.'

'How!' said Christian 'but she will walk with me--she's my cousin.'

'Have you asked her?'

'No.'

'Well, I think she's worth an asking. She's shy, and she's nice, and
she's got a spiri