ed? He wrote
like one who associates freely with the educated classes both at home
and abroad. Was he married? Where would _he_ seek his wife? The fitting
mate for him would doubtless be found among those women, cosmopolitan
and emancipated, whose acquaintance falls only to men in easy
circumstances and of good social standing, men who travel much, who are
at home in all the great centres of civilisation.

As Peak meditated, the volume fell upon his knee. Had it not lain in
his own power to win a reputation like that which Justin Walsh was
achieving? His paper in _The Critical Review_, itself a decided
success, might have been followed up by others of the same tenor.
Instead of mouldering in a dull cathedral town, he might now be living
and working in France or Germany. His money would have served one
purpose as well as the other, and two or three years of determined
effort----

Mrs. Roots showed her face at the door.

'A gentleman is asking for you, sir,--Mr. Chilvers.'

'Mr. Chilvers? Please ask him to come up.'

He threw his book on to the table, and stood in expectancy. Someone
ascended the stairs with rapid stride and creaking boots. The door was
flung open, and a cordial but affected voice burst forth in greeting.

'Ha, Mr. Peak! I hope you haven't altogether forgotten me? Delighted to
see you again!'

Godwin gave his hand, and felt it strongly pressed, whilst Chilvers
gazed into his face with a smiling wistfulness which could only be
answered with a grin of discomfort. The Rev. Bruno had grown very tall,
and seemed to be in perfect health; but the effeminacy of his brilliant
youth still declared itself in his attitudes, gestures, and attire. He
was dressed with marked avoidance of the professional pattern. A hat of
soft felt but not clerical, fashionable collar and tie, a sweeping
ulster, and beneath it a frock-coat, which was doubtless the pride of
some West End tailor. His patent-leather boots were dandiacally
diminutive; his glove fitted like that of a lady who lives but to be
_bien gantee_. The feathery hair, which at Whitelaw he was wont to pat
and smooth, still had its golden shimmer, and on his face no growth was
permitted.

'I had heard of your arrival here, of course,' said Peak, trying to
appear civil, though anything more than that was beyond his power.
'Will you sit down?'

'This is the "breathing time o' the day" with you, I hope? I don't
disturb your work?'

'I was only reading this bo