sun rose and
set, the tides ebbed and flowed, spring flowers bloomed, and died, the
summer skies smiled, autumn leaves of golden hue withered on the
ground; and winter snows fell; yet no change came to the quiet
homestead in the Kentish meadows.

Beatrice and Lillian had reached their sixteenth year, and two fairer
girls were seldom seen. Mrs. Vyvian's efforts had not been in vain;
they were accomplished far beyond the ordinary run of young girls.
Lillian inherited her father's talent for drawing. She was an
excellent artist. Beatrice excelled in music. She had a magnificent
contralto voice that had been carefully trained. Both were cultivated,
graceful, elegant girls, and Lady Earle often sighed to think they
should be living in such profound obscurity. She could do nothing;
seventeen years had not changed Lord Earle's resolution. Time, far
from softening, imbittered him the more against his son. Of Ronald
Lady Earle heard but little. He was still in Africa; he wrote at rare
intervals, but there was little comfort in his letters.

Lady Earle did what she could for her grandchildren, but it was a
strange, unnatural life. They knew no other girls; they had never ben
twenty miles from Knutsford. All girlish pleasures and enjoyments were
a sealed book to them. They had never been to a party, a picnic, or a
ball; no life was ever more simple, more quiet, more devoid of all
amusement than theirs. Lillian was satisfied and happy; her rich,
teeming fancy, her artistic mind, and contented, sweet disposition
would have rendered her happy under any circumstances--but it was
different with brilliant, beautiful Beatrice. No wild bird in a cage
ever pined for liberty or chafed under restraint more than she did.
She cried out loudly against the unnatural solitude, the isolation of
such a life.

Eleven years had done much for Dora. The coy, girlish beauty that had
won Ronald Earle's heart had given place to a sweet, patient womanhood.
Constant association with one so elegant and refined as Mrs. Vyvian had
done for her what nothing else could have achieved. Dora had caught
the refined, high-bred accent, the graceful, cultivated manner, the
easy dignity. She had become imbued with Mrs. Vyvian's noble thoughts
and ideas.

Dora retained two peculiarities--one was a great dislike for Ronald,
the other a sincere dread of all love and lovers for her children.
From her they heard nothing but depreciation of men. All men