essive; to Wilfrid's humane culture he deferred at all
times; for all the learning which lay outside his own sphere he had
boundless reverence. Wilfrid's gain by him was not only of a pleasant
personal acquaintance; the intercourse extended his views, and in
particular gave direction to much that had hitherto been vague
potentiality in his character. In more than one sense this visit to
Dunfield was to prove a turning point in his life.

Beatrice, in the meantime, held herself apart; Wilfrid had never before
felt himself so little at ease in her presence. It was as though the
short time which had elapsed since their last meeting had effected a
permanent change in their mutual relations. Previously their intercourse
had gone as far in familiarity as was possible if it were not to take
quite a new colour; now all at once this past seemed to go for nothing.
Beatrice was the active source of change. She was deliberately--he could
not doubt it--extending the distance between them, annulling bygone
intimacy, shifting into ineffective remoteness all manner of common
associations. Things she would formerly have understood at a half-word
she now affected to need to have explained to her. He was 'Mr. Athel' to
an extent he had never been before; and even of his relatives she spoke
with a diminished familiarity. She emphasised at every moment the
characteristics which were alien to his sympathies, talked of the
'revival' _ad nauseam_, or changed with alarming suddenness from that to
topics of excessive frivolousness. Wilfrid little by little ceased to
converse with her, in the real sense of the word; he even felt
uncomfortable in her presence. And Mrs. Baxendale had clear eyes for at
all events the outward features of the situation.

On the fifth day of Wilfrid's presence in the house, Beatrice took the
opportunity of being alone with her aunt to observe that she must go
southwards by a certain train next morning.

'Oh, surely not!' protested Mrs. Baxendale. 'I can't spare you yet. And
your mother is still in Berkshire.'

'Yes, but that makes no difference to me, you know,' said Beatrice. 'I'm
often at home by myself. Indeed I must go to-morrow.'

'Won't you stay if I beg you? It's four years since you were here, and
who knows how long it will be before I entrap you again. You've already
threatened me, you know, with the peerage, and I'm very sure you won't
deign to honour me when that day comes. Now, there's a good girl--to t