, and flood the suburbs. At the period whereof we tell
there were no invaders of the place. Everybody knew every one else
in his own clique, and knew of and looked down on every one else in
the clique below him, and thanked God that he only knew of him,
and did not know him; and looked up at and slandered every one
else in the clique above him.

At the time of which we tell there was no greater joy to those in
each of the many cliques than to be able to stare at those who
belonged to a clique esteemed lower, and to ask who those people
were, and profess never to have heard their names, and to wonder
out of what dungheap they had sprung.

At that time the quintessence of society in the town consisted of
such as were called upon and returned the calls of the county
families. Now, alas, almost every country gentleman's house in the
neighborhood is no longer occupied by its ancient proprietors, and
is sold or let to successful tradespeople, so that the quintessence
of society in the town plumes itself on not knowing the occupants
of these stately mansions.

At that time the family that inhabited a house which had been
built fifty years before regarded with contempt those who occupied
one built only thirty years before. At that time those who had a
remote connection by cousinship twice removed with an Honorable,
deemed themselves justified in considering every one else, not so
privileged, as dishonorable.

Now all this is past, or is in process of passing away, and in
Guildford and its suburbs, as elsewhere, the old order changeth,
and the poll of a Parish Council teaches men their levels in the
general estimation.

Without much difficulty, Jonas Kink was able to discover where the
artist, Iver Verstage, had his house and his studio. The house was
small, in a side street, and the name was on the door.

Jonas was ushered into the workshop by an elderly maid, and then
saw Iver in a blouse with his arms tied about with string; a
mahl-stick in one hand and a brush in the other.

Iver was surprised to see the Broom-Squire, and indisposed to
welcome him. He purposely retained stick and brush in his hands,
so as not to be able to strike palms with the man who had deprived
him of the woman he admired and loved best in the world; and whom
he suspected of misusing her.

Jonas looked about the studio, and his eye was caught by a picture
of Mehetabel at the well head. The young artist had devoted his
best efforts to finishin