side a glimpse of the wider world in the
lofty curves of the chalk downs, grand steadfast forms played over by
the changing days.

The house was but just large enough to be called a mansion, and was
moderately rented, having no manor attached to it, and being rather
difficult to let with its sombre furniture and faded upholstery. But
inside and outside it was what no beholder could suppose to be
inhabited by retired trades-people: a certainty which was worth many
conveniences to tenants who not only had the taste that shrinks from
new finery, but also were in that border-territory of rank where
annexation is a burning topic: and to take up her abode in a house
which had once sufficed for dowager countesses gave a perceptible tinge
to Mrs. Davilow's satisfaction in having an establishment of her own.
This, rather mysteriously to Gwendolen, appeared suddenly possible on
the death of her step-father, Captain Davilow, who had for the last
nine years joined his family only in a brief and fitful manner, enough
to reconcile them to his long absences; but she cared much more for the
fact than for the explanation. All her prospects had become more
agreeable in consequence. She had disliked their former way of life,
roving from one foreign watering-place or Parisian apartment to
another, always feeling new antipathies to new suites of hired
furniture, and meeting new people under conditions which made her
appear of little importance; and the variation of having passed two
years at a showy school, where, on all occasions of display, she had
been put foremost, had only deepened her sense that so exceptional a
person as herself could hardly remain in ordinary circumstances or in a
social position less than advantageous. Any fear of this latter evil
was banished now that her mamma was to have an establishment; for on
the point of birth Gwendolen was quite easy. She had no notion how her
maternal grandfather got the fortune inherited by his two daughters;
but he had been a West Indian--which seemed to exclude further
question; and she knew that her father's family was so high as to take
no notice of her mamma, who nevertheless preserved with much pride the
miniature of a Lady Molly in that connection. She would probably have
known much more about her father but for a little incident which
happened when she was twelve years old. Mrs. Davilow had brought out,
as she did only at wide intervals, various memorials of her first
husband, a