he
saw the former in a new and painful light. So dark was the frown upon
her usually serene countenance, so angry the light in her fine hazel
eyes, so anxious and perturbed her entire being, that she appeared
almost ugly. Not only so, but added to impatience and anger there
seemed something like repugnance, disgust, directed at the miserable
pedant who under the fires of womanly wrath blinked and smiled, but had
no defence ready.

"It is altogether my fault that I am here," said Ringfield quietly; "I
took another walk in this direction, hoping for a sight of the peacock."

"And you saw something else instead! Ah!--there is much I must explain
to you, you who come among us not knowing, not understanding. You see
only the outside. But I suppose I must tell you who we are. This is
my brother, my only brother, in fact my only living relative, Henry
Clairville. I am Miss--Mademoiselle Clairville."

Ringfield bowed to her and to the man in the chair.

"We are the last of what--of what it pleases him to call our Line. It
is all most foolish, most absurd. But I cannot tell you here. Since
chance has brought you our way again, and as you may take up your
residence in the neighbourhood--have you decided yet?--I feel I must
make some explanation of how you find us, my brother and myself. Can
you row? or paddle?"

Her manner, gradually changing and growing easier every moment, made it
easy for Ringfield, who answered her with a smile.

"Of course."

"I asked, because some clergymen are so useless in some directions
while good enough in others."

CHAPTER IV

THE HOUSE OF CLAIRVILLE

"High instincts, before which our mortal nature
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised."

The hall through which they passed was sufficiently dark to prevent the
masculine eye of Ringfield noting that long and systematic neglect
marked every inch of the wall, every foot of flooring, every window,
door, stair, sill and sash. Nothing was clean, nothing was orderly,
and as the books and papers contained in the invalid's room had
overflowed into the halls, lying on the steps and propped up on chairs
and in corners, the dirt and confusion was indescribable. Hideous
wallpapers were peeling off the damp and cracking wall, tattered shreds
showing, by the accumulation on their fly-specked yellow edges of thick
dust, how long they had waved upon the close air of this uncared-for
house. All the woodwork was rough and horr