There was no Triangle then. The Victoria Rooms were only a dream of some
enterprising builder, and it was across a field that Joyce made her way,
till she came to the sombre houses with dark, sunless frontage called
Rodney Place, and, passing them and the stately mansion, Manilla Hall,
she turned towards some low grey-coloured houses, which rejoiced in the
name of "Down Cottages."

It was impossible for Mrs. Falconer to live in any house without leaving
her mark upon it, and the little dining and drawing rooms were as bright
and fresh as she could make them, while Piers had the third sitting room
for his "rubbish."

Piers had now a collection of birds and beasts which had grown into
large proportions since the little sparrow-hawk had been "set up" by Mr.
Plume.

He had studied natural history in all its branches, and since he had
lived in Clifton he had begun to be an earnest student of the great
subject of geology, and his light figure, leaning on his crutches, and
his pale, earnest face, were familiar to those who took their daily
airing on the Observatory Hill. Piers had made friends with the stone
cutters who spread out their stalls on Sion Hill and at the foot of the
Observatory, and there was a continual interest in getting specimens
from them.

Piers was helped in his studies by a young physician, who was then
putting his foot on the first rung of the ladder which he soon scaled to
the very top, and stood in later years pre-eminently as the first
consulting physician of the West of England. His patients at this time,
above the level of Park Street were not very numerous, and he would
laughingly assure Piers that he was very proud to attend any one in so
aristocratic a locality as Down Cottage!

He lent Piers books and instruments, and gave him a microscope, of
which, as a physician, he had several, and, indeed, was the bright
element in the lame boy's life.

He was coming out of the house now as Joyce opened the little iron gate,
his horse waiting for him at the corner.

The greeting between the doctor and Joyce was unusually warm; he admired
her beautiful, beaming face, and always liked to exchange a word with
her.

"It is great news," he said; "though the crucial test is yet to come."

"Yes," Joyce said; "but surely the dear old Lords will not obstruct the
bill."

"The dear old Bishops will do so," the doctor said, "your friend at
Wells amongst them."

"Well," Joyce said, "he is sure to do what