er, where Mrs. Ormonde had just spent a fortnight.

'I think I must go and see them at Christmas,' he said, 'if they don't
come south.'

The other considered.

'Don't go so soon,' she said at length.

'So soon? It will be six mortal months.'

'Be advised.'

Egremont sighed and left the subject.

'Tell me what you have been doing of late,' Mrs. Ormonde resumed,
'apart from your lectures.'

'Very little of which any account can be rendered. I read a good deal,
and occasionally come across an acquaintance.'

'Have you seen the Tyrrells since they returned?'

'No. I had an invitation to dine with them the other day, but excused
myself.'

'On what grounds?'

'I mean to see less of people in general.'

Mrs. Ormonde regarded him.

'I hope,' she said, 'that you will pursue no such idea. You mean, of
course, that your Lambeth work is to be absorbing. Let it be so, but
don't fall into the mistake of making it your burden. You are not one
of those who can work in solitude.'

'I am getting a distaste for ordinary society.'

'Then I beg of you to resist the mood. Go into society freely. You are
in danger as soon as you begin to neglect it.'

'I, individually?'

'Yes.' She smiled at the deprecating look he turned on her. 'Let me be
your moral physician. Already I notice that you fall short of perfect
health: the refusal of that invitation is a symptom. Pray give faith to
what I say; if any one knows you, I think it is I.'

He kept silence. Mrs. Ormonde continued:

'I hear that the Tyrrells have made the acquaintance of Mr. Dalmaine.
Paula mentions him in a letter.'

'Ha! With enthusiasm probably?'

'No. They met him somewhere in Switzerland. He gave them the benefit of
his experience on the education question.'

'Of course. Well, I am prejudiced against the man, as you know.'

'He is a force. It looks as if we should hear a good deal of him in the
future.'

'Doubtless. The incarnate ideal of British philistinism is sure to have
a career before him.'

The lady laughed.

Early in the afternoon Egremont took leave of his friend and returned
to London. It was his habit when in England, to run down to Eastbourne
in this way about once a month.

Since the death of his father, his home had been represented by rooms
in Great Russell Street. He chose them on account of their proximity to
the British Museum; at that time he believed himself destined to
produce some monumental work of erudition: the subjec