that he was a loose fish; and I suppose his habits were against his
getting on, till this year, when, perhaps, by a lucky accident, he has
painted a picture that raises him to the top of the tree. But is not
Miss Lily wondrously nice to look at? What a pity her education has been
so much neglected!"

"Has it?"

"Have not you discovered that already? She has not had even a
music-master, though my wife says she has a good ear, and can sing
prettily enough. As for reading I don't think she has read anything but
fairy tales and poetry, and such silly stuff. However, she is very young
yet; and now that her guardian can sell his pictures, it is to be hoped
that he will do more justice to his ward. Painters and actors are not so
regular in their private lives as we plain men are, and great allowance
is to be made for them; still, every one is bound to do his duty. I am
sure you agree with me?"

"Certainly," said Kenelm, with an emphasis which startled the merchant.
"That is an admirable maxim of yours: it seems a commonplace, yet how
often, when it is put into our heads, it strikes as a novelty! A duty
may be a very difficult thing, a very disagreeable thing, and, what
is strange, it is often a very invisible thing. It is present,--close
before us, and yet we don't see it; somebody shouts its name in our
ears, 'Duty,' and straight it towers before us a grim giant. Pardon me
if I leave you: I can't stay to dine. Duty summons me elsewhere. Make my
excuses to Mrs. Braefield."

Before Mr. Braefield could recover his self-possession, Kenelm had
vaulted over a stile and was gone.

CHAPTER VI.

KENELM walked into the shop kept by the Somerses, and found Jessie
still at the counter. "Give me back my knap sack. Thank you," he said,
flinging the knapsack across his shoulders. "Now, do me a favour. A
portmanteau of mine ought to be at the station. Send for it, and keep it
till I give further directions. I think of going to Oxford for a day
or two. Mrs. Somers, one more word with you. Think, answer frankly, are
you, as you said this morning, thoroughly happy, and yet married to the
man you loved?"

"Oh, so happy!"

"And wish for nothing beyond? Do not wish Will to be other than he is?"

"God forbid! You frighten me, sir."

"Frighten you! Be it so. Everyone who is happy should be frightened
lest happiness fly away. Do your best to chain it, and you will, for you
attach Duty to Happiness; and," muttered Kenelm, as he turne