the evergreens. She had been to him like a fair faint figure
in a dream, and the airy fancies that clustered round her had been more
dreamy yet. But suddenly the dream-girl had stepped out of the clouds into
every-day life, and stood in flesh and blood beside him. And the nameless
fascination with which his imagination had played was revealed as the
selfsame attraction as that which his soul had known when, years before,
he first met Judith Lisle.

CHAPTER XLIII.

FAINT HEART WINS FAIR LADY.

Percival Thorne would have readily declared that it was a matter of utter
indifference to him whether his landlady went at the end of March to pay a
three weeks' visit to her eldest sister or whether she stayed at home. He
took very little notice when Mrs. Bryant told him of her intention. She
talked for some time. When she was gone Thorne found himself left with the
impression that the lady in question was a Mrs. Smith, who resided
somewhere in Bethnal Green; that some one was a plumber and glazier; that
some one had had the measles; that trade was not all one could wish, nor
were Mrs. Bryant's relations quite what they should have been, but that,
she thanked Goodness, they were not all alike. This struck him as a
reasonable cause for thankfulness, as otherwise there would certainly have
been a terrible monotony in the family circle. He also had an idea that
Mrs. Smith had received a great deal of good advice on the subject of her
marriage, and he rather thought that Smith was not the sort of man to
make a woman happy. "Either Smith isn't, or Bryant wasn't when he was
alive--now which was it?" smiled Percival to himself, ruffling his wavy
hair and leaning back in his chair with a confused sense of relief. And
then the dispute about the grandmother's crockery came in, and the uncle
who had a bit of money and married the widow at Margate. "I hope to
Goodness Mrs. Bryant will stay away some time if she has half as much to
say on her return!"

The good woman had not gone into Mr. Thorne's room for the purpose of
giving him all this information. It had come naturally to her lips when
she found herself there, but she merely wished to suggest to him that
Lydia would be busy while she was away, and money-matters were terribly
muddling, weren't they? and perhaps it would make it easier if Mr.
Thorne's bill stood over. Percival understood in a moment. The careworn
face, the confused manner, told him all. Lydia would probably was