ll his defences, man, suffering
from a foul dyspepsia, with a nervous system in the latest stages of
exhaustion, and a reeling brain, survived by reason of his power to go
on making courage. Little heroic as (in the then general state of petty
competition) his deeds appeared to be, there never had yet been a time
when man in bulk was more courageous, for there never had yet been
a time when he had more need to be. Signs were not wanting that this
desperate state of things had caught the eyes of the community. A little
sect---'" Mr. Stone stopped; his eyes had again tumbled over the bottom
edge; he moved hurriedly towards the desk. Just as his hand removed a
stone and took up a third sheet, Cecilia cried out:

"Father!"

Mr. Stone stopped, and turned towards her. His daughter saw that he had
gone quite pink; her annoyance vanished.

"Father! About that girl---"

Mr. Stone seemed to reflect. "Yes, yes," he said.

"I don't think Bianca likes her coming here."

Mr. Stone passed his hand across his brow.

"Forgive me for reading to you, my dear," he said; "it's a great relief
to me at times."

Cecilia went close to him, and refrained with difficulty from taking up
the tasselled cord.

"Of course, dear," she said: "I quite understand that."

Mr. Stone looked full in her face, and before a gaze which seemed to go
through her and see things the other side, Cecilia dropped her eyes.

"It is strange," he said, "how you came to be my daughter!"

To Cecilia, too, this had often seemed a problem.

"There is a great deal in atavism," said Mr. Stone, "that we know
nothing of at present."

Cecilia cried with heat, "I do wish you would attend a minute, Father;
it's really an important matter," and she turned towards the window,
tears being very near her eyes.

The voice of Mr. Stone said humbly: "I will try, my dear."

But Cecilia thought: 'I must give him a good lesson. He really is too
self-absorbed'; and she did not move, conveying by the posture of her
shoulders how gravely she was vexed.

She could see nursemaids wheeling babies towards the Gardens, and
noted their faces gazing, not at the babies, but, uppishly, at other
nursemaids, or, with a sort of cautious longing, at men who passed. How
selfish they looked! She felt a little glow of satisfaction that she was
making this thin and bent old man behind her conscious of his egoism.

'He will know better another time,' she thought. Suddenly she heard a
whistli