om. Faith was one in whom the meditative somewhat overpowered the
active faculties; she went on, with no abundance of love, to theorize
upon this gratuitously charming woman, who, striking freakishly into her
brother's path, seemed likely to do him no good in her sisterly
estimation. Ethelberta's bright and shapely form stood before her critic
now, smartened by the motes of sunlight from head to heel: what Faith
would have given to see her so clearly within!

'Without doubt she is already a lady of many romantic experiences,' she
said dubiously.

'And on the way to many more,' said Christopher. The tone was just of
the kind which may be imagined of a sombre man who had been up all night
piping that others might dance.

Faith parted her lips as if in consternation at possibilities.
Ethelberta, having already become an influence in Christopher's system,
might soon become more--an indestructible fascination--to drag him about,
turn his soul inside out, harrow him, twist him, and otherwise torment
him, according to the stereotyped form of such processes.

They were interrupted by the opening of a door. A servant entered and
came up to them.

'This is for you, I believe, sir,' he said. 'Two guineas;' and he placed
the money in Christopher's hand. 'Some breakfast will be ready for you
in a moment if you like to have it. Would you wish it brought in here;
or will you come to the steward's room?'

'Yes, we will come.' And the man then began to extinguish the lights one
by one. Christopher dropped the two pounds and two shillings singly into
his pocket, and looking listlessly at the footman said, 'Can you tell me
the address of that lady on the lawn? Ah, she has disappeared!'

'She wore a dress with blue flowers,' said Faith.

'And remarkable bright in her manner? O, that's the young widow,
Mrs--what's that name--I forget for the moment.'

'Widow?' said Christopher, the eyes of his understanding getting
wonderfully clear, and Faith uttering a private ejaculation of thanks
that after all no commandments were likely to be broken in this matter.
'The lady I mean is quite a girlish sort of woman.'

'Yes, yes, so she is--that's the one. Coachman says she must have been
born a widow, for there is not time for her ever to have been made one.
However, she's not quite such a chicken as all that. Mrs. Petherwin,
that's the party's name.'

'Does she live here?'

'No, she is staying in the house visiting for a few