no little
courtesies; given few signs of being conscious of my presence; barely
returned my morning greeting, though my lonely table is just opposite
his, in the large bay-window.

But in this new phase of life, everything seems of absorbing interest,
and the individuality of the few people I see, takes on an exaggerated
importance. (Really that sentence might almost be Sir Deryck's!) Also, I
really believe Jim Airth's peculiar fascination consists in the fact that
I am conscious of his disapproval. If he thinks of me at all, it is not
with admiration, nor even with liking. And this is a novel experience;
for I have been spoilt by perpetual approval, and satiated by senseless
and unmerited adulation.

Oh Jane! As I walk along these cliffs, and hear the Atlantic breakers
pounding against their base, far down below; as I watch the sea-gulls
circling around on their strong white wings; as I realise the strength,
the force, the liberty, in nature; the growth and progress which
accompanies life; I feel I have never really lived. Nothing has ever felt
_strong_, either beneath me, or around me, or against me. Had I once been
mastered, and held, and made to do as another willed, I should have felt
love was a reality, and life would have become worth living. But I have
just dawdled through the years, doing exactly as I pleased; making
mistakes, and nobody troubling to set me right; failing, and nobody
disappointed that I had not succeeded.

I realise now, that there is a key to life, and a key to love, which has
never been placed in my hands. What it is, I know not. But if I ever
learn, it will be from just such a man as Jim Airth. I have never really
talked with him, yet I am so conscious of his strength and virility, that
he stands to me, in the abstract, for all that is strongest in manhood,
and most vital in life.

Much of the benefit of my time here, quite unconsciously to himself,
comes to me from him. When he walks into the house, whistling like a
blackbird; when he hangs up his cap on an antler a foot or two higher
than other people could reach; when he ploughs unhesitatingly through his
meals, with a book or a paper stuck up in front of him; when he dumps his
big boots out into the passage, long after the quiet house has hushed
into repose, and I smile, in the darkness, at the thought of how the
sound will have annoyed Miss Murgatroyd, startled Miss Eliza, and made
naughty Miss Susannah's heart flutter;--when all th