Mr. Fentolin sighed.

"One is forced sometimes," he remarked regretfully, "to realise the
selfishness of our young people. For many years one devotes oneself to
providing them with all the comforts and luxuries of life. Then, in a
single day, they turn around and give everything they have to give to a
stranger. So you want to marry Esther?"

"If you please."

"She has a very moderate fortune."

"She need have none at all," Hamel replied; "I have enough."

Mr. Fentolin glanced towards the house.

"Then," he said, "I think you had better go and tell her so; in which
case, I shall be able to paint."

"I have your permission, then?" Hamel asked, rising to his feet eagerly.

"Negatively," Mr. Fentolin agreed, "you have. I cannot refuse. Esther is
of age; the thing is reasonable. I do not know whether she will be happy
with you or not. A young man of your disposition who declines to study
the whims of an unfortunate creature like myself is scarcely likely to
be possessed of much sensibility. However, perhaps your views as to a
solitary residence here will change with your engagement to my niece."

Hamel did not reply for a moment. He was trying to ask himself why,
even in the midst of this rush of anticipatory happiness, he should be
conscious of a certain reluctance to leave the Tower--and Mr. Fentolin.
He was looking longingly towards the Hall. Mr. Fentolin waved him away.

"Go and make love," he ordered, "and leave me alone. We are both in
pursuit of beauty--only our methods differ."

Hamel hesitated no longer but walked up the narrow path with swift,
buoyant footsteps. Everywhere he seemed to be surrounded by the glorious
spring sunshine. It glittered in the little pools and creeks by his
side. It drew a new colour from the dun-coloured marshes, the masses
of emerald seaweed, the shimmering sands. It flashed in the long row of
windows of the Hall. As he drew nearer, he could see the banks of yellow
crocuses in the sloping gardens behind. There were odours of spring in
the air. He ran lightly up the terrace steps. There was an easy-chair
drawn into her favourite corner, and a book upon the table, but no sign
of Esther. He hesitated for a moment, and then, retracing his steps
along the terrace, entered the house by the front door, which stood wide
open. There was no one in the hall, scarcely a sound about the place. A
great clock ticked solemnly from the foot of the stairs. There was not
even a servant in sig