ay--Oh! you want to surround
yourself with luxuries----'

'I don't!--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Rolfe, I meant to say that you
surely know me better.' His hand trembled and spilt the tea, which he
had not yet touched. 'But how can you suppose that--that anyone----?'

He turned his face to the fire, the light of which made his eyes glare
fiercely. Forthwith, Alma launched upon a spirited remonstrance. Never,
even in the days just before her marriage, had she been so fervid and
eloquent on behalf of the 'simple life'. Two hundred pounds! Why, it
was wealth for rational people! She inveighed against display and
extravagance.

'You are looking round the room.--Oh, don't apologise; it was quite
natural. I confess, and I'm ashamed of myself. But ask Mrs. Abbott to
tell you about our little house in Wales; she came once to see us
there. We lived--oh so simply and cheaply; and it was our happiest
time. If only we could go back to it! But the world has been too much
for us. People call it comfort; it means, I assure you, ceaseless
trouble and worry. Who knows? some day we may come to our senses, and
shake off the burden.'

Thistlewood smiled.

'If we could all have cottages among the mountains,' he said. 'But a
little provincial town----'

'Set an example! Who would have a better right to defy foolish
prejudice? A teacher of the beautiful--you might do infinite good by
showing how beautifully one can live without obeying mere fashion in a
single point.'

'I heartily agree with you,' replied Thistlewood, setting down his
empty cup. 'You express my own thoughts much better than I could
myself. And your talk has done me good, Mrs. Rolfe. Thank you for
treating me with such friendly kindness.'

Therewith he rose and said goodbye to her, with a hope that they might
meet again. Alma was vexed that he would not stay longer and take her
more completely into his confidence; but she echoed the hope, and
smiled upon him with much sweetness.

His behaviour could have only one interpretation: he had proposed to
Mary Abbott, and she had refused him. The longer Alma thought, the more
certain she was--and the more irritated. It would be very difficult to
continue her civility to Mrs. Abbott after this.

CHAPTER 6

In these days Rolfe had abandoned even the pretence of study. He could
not feel at home among his books; they were ranked about him on the old
shelves, but looked as uncomfortable as he himself; it seemed a
tempor