at Malcolm Herrick had no
overweening estimate of himself--that, in spite of his success and his
many friends, and all the smiles and adulation lavished on him, at
heart he was a lonely man. Perhaps in her way Elizabeth was lonely too.
In spite of her devotion to David's father, there were times when the
narrowness of her life oppressed her--when her broad sympathies and
strong vitality seemed to cry out for a larger life, for a wider
outlook--when she trod the woodland paths with a sense of
weariness--the same path day after day.

"How tired one gets of it all!" she said to herself one May afternoon,
as she came in sight of the porch where Mr. Carlyon was reading
tranquilly and enjoying the sweet spring air. The curate-in-charge
looked slightly older and had taken to spectacles, but otherwise there
was little change in him. On the whole, his existence was a very
peaceful one. He loved Rotherwood and the simple, kindly folk amongst
whom he lived. His books and Elizabeth's society were his chief
pleasures. If the day passed without seeing her, Theo noticed that he
grew restless and preoccupied, and finally went across to the Wood
House on some excuse or other, to assure himself that nothing was amiss.

"Father thinks that there is no one like Elizabeth," Theo would
observe: "nothing that she says or does is wrong. If he had his way
they would never be apart;" and Theo was right.

In spite of his short sight, Mr. Carlyon soon detected the signs of
mental weariness on Elizabeth's pale face; for as she seated herself on
the wooden bench beside him, he patted her hand in his tender, homely
way.

"What is it, my dear?" he asked gently. "You look tired, Elizabeth."

"Do I?" she returned absently; "I feel as though I could walk ten miles
with pleasure. That is the worst, I am so strong that nothing tires me.
Sometimes I fancy it would be a pleasant experience to be honestly
fatigued in some good cause. How one would sleep after it!"

"I thought you always slept well, dear?"

"Oh, so I do: often I fall asleep as soon as my head is on the pillow.
But I wake early--the first twitter of the birds rouses me--and then
life looks so long." Elizabeth spoke in a dejected tone.

"Come and walk," was Mr. Carlyon's only answer to this; "I have been
writing my sermon all the morning, and I feel a bit stiff and headachy.
Let us go down the valley;" and as Elizabeth made no objection to this,
he got his hat and stick, and they sallie