of abnormal instincts tend to drift together: Arthur, the
a-moral prodigy, and Gabrielle, the last offshoot of the decayed house
of Hewish, daughter of the definitely degenerate Sir Jocelyn. But I do
not think that there was anything abnormal or decadent in Gabrielle's
composition. Her nature was gay and uncomplicated, in singular
contrast to her involved and sombre fate. One is forced to the
conclusion that the Payne miracle was the result of nothing more
uncommon than the natural birth of a tender passion between two young
people of opposite sexes, whom chance had isolated and thrown into each
other's company. The specialist who had vaguely suggested to Mrs.
Payne the hope that manhood might work a change in Arthur had been
nearer the mark than he himself supposed, for though the physical state
effected nothing in itself, its first consequence, the growth of an
ideal love, became his soul's salvation.

Of all that happened during the Easter term we can know nothing, save
that it was spring, that they were supremely happy, and that Considine
was blind ... blind, that is, to everything in the case but the results
of Arthur's infatuation. These, indeed, were so obvious that he could
not very well miss them. The boy's essential childishness, the thing
that had added an aspect of horror to his habits of stealth and
cruelty, gradually disappeared. He began to grow up. I mean that his
mind grew up, for he had already shown a premature physical
development. Practically the space of a single term had changed him
from a child into a man. Considine, seeing this, innocently flattered
himself upon the admirable results of his educational system. A
country life, with plenty of exercise in the open air, and an
unconventional but logical type of literary education that was his own
invention. Result: "_Mens sana in corpore sano_." Arthur was a show
case, and seemed to make possible the acquisition of a long series of
"difficult" pupils at enormous and suitable fees.

When once the boy got going, the rate of his mental development made it
difficult for Considine to keep pace with him. His mind, that had once
been slow, worked with a sort of feverish activity, as though he were
subconsciously aware that he had whole years of leeway to make up. The
other pupils, who had always taken Arthur's comparative dulness for
granted, and looked down upon him for it, noticed the change, and found
that if they were not careful he wou