ption, her cousin Olga,
had rather turned her from thoughts about the beautiful, for Olga
seemed emotional in excess, and was not without taint of affectation.
In Helen Borisoff she knew for the first time a woman who cared
supremely for music, poetry, pictures, and who combined with this a
vigorous practical intelligence. Helen could burn with enthusiasm, yet
never exposed herself to suspicion of weak-mindedness. Posturing was
her scorn, but no one spoke more ardently of the things she admired.
Her acquaintance with recent literature was wider than that of anyone
Irene had known; she talked of it in the most interesting way, giving
her friend new lights, inspiring her with a new energy of thought. And
Irene was sorry to go away. She vaguely felt that this companionship
was of moment in the history of her mind; she wished for a larger
opportunity of benefiting by it.

Dr. Derwent and his son were now at Cromer; there Irene was to join
them; and thither, presently, would come Arnold Jacks.

On the day of her departure there arose a storm of wind and rain, which
grew more violent as she approached the Norfolk coast; and nothing
could have pleased her better. Her troubled mood harmonised with the
darkened, roaring sea; moreover, this atmospheric disturbance made
something to talk about on arriving. She suffered no embarrassment at
the meeting with her father and Eustace, who of course awaited her at
the station. To their eyes, Irene was in excellent spirits, though
rather wearied after the tiresome journey. She said very little about
her stay in Hampshire.

The last person in the world with whom Irene would have chosen to
converse about her approaching marriage was her excellent brother
Eustace; but the young man was not content with offering his good
wishes; to her surprise, he took the opportunity of their being alone
together on the beach, to speak with most unwonted warmth about Arnold
Jacks.

"I really was glad when I heard of it! To tell you the truth, I had
hoped for it. If there is a man living whom I respect, it is Arnold.
There's no end to his good qualities. A downright good and sensible
fellow!"

"Of course I'm very glad you think so, Eustace," replied his sister,
stooping to pick up a shell.

"Indeed I do. I've often thought that one's sister's choice in marriage
must be a very anxious thing; it would have worried me awfully if I had
felt any doubts about the man."

Irene was inclined to laugh.

"I