cases, while the jagged edges and peaks of bitterness and
contempt were worn away by a decade of years, the solid rocks from which
they sprang persisted and the massive reasons for emotion were not
moved, albeit their sharpest expressions vanished. Some loves faded into
likings, and their raptures to a placid contentment, built as much on
the convenience of habit as the memories of a passionate past; other
affections, less fortunate, perished and left nothing but remains
unlovely. Hates also, with their sharpest bristles rubbed down, were
modified to bluntness, and left a mere lumpish aversion of mind. Some
dislikes altogether perished and gave place to indifference; some
persisted as the shadow of their former selves; some were kept alive by
absurd pride in those who pretended, for their credit's sake, a
steadfastness they were not really built to feel.

Sabina, for example, was constitutionally unequal to any supreme and
all-controlling passion unless it had been love; yet still she preserved
that inimical attitude to Raymond Ironsyde she had promised to
entertain; though in reality the fire was gone and the ashes cold. She
knew it, but was willing to rekindle the flame if material offered, as
now it threatened to do.

Ernest Churchouse had published his book upon 'The Bells of Dorset' and,
feeling that it represented his life work, declared himself content. He
had grown still less active, but found abundant interests in literature
and friendship. He undertook the instruction of Sabina's son and, from
time to time, reported upon the child. His first friend was now Estelle
Waldron, who, at this stage of her development, found the old and
childlike man chime with her hopes and aspirations.

Estelle was passing through the phase not uncommon to one of her nature.
For a time her early womanhood found food in poetry, and her mind,
apparently fashioned to advance the world's welfare and add to human
happiness, reposed as it seemed on an interlude of reading and the
pursuit of beauty. She developed fast to a point--the point whereat she
had established a library and common room for the Mill hands; the point
at which the girls called her 'Our Lady,' and very honestly loved her
for herself as well as for the good she brought them. Now, however, her
activities were turned inward and she sought to atone for an education
incomplete. She had never gone to school, and her governesses, while
able and sufficient, could not do for h