th whom
as yet he had held no continuous dialogue.

'Has there been anything of interest at the London theatres lately?'
she asked.

'I know so little of them,' Godwin replied, truthfully. 'It must be
several years since I saw a play.'

'Then in that respect you have hardly become a Londoner.'

'Nor in any other, I believe,' said Peak, with a smile. 'I have lived
there ten years, but am far from regarding London as my home. I hope a
few months more will release me from it altogether.'

'Indeed!--Perhaps you think of leaving England?'

'I should be very sorry to do that--for any length of time. My wish is
to settle somewhere in the country, and spend a year or two in quiet
study.'

Mrs. Warricombe looked amiable surprise, but corrected herself to
approving interest.

'I have heard some of our friends say that their minds get unstrung, if
they are long away from town, but I should have thought that country
quietness would be much better than London noise. My husband certainly
finds it so.'

'People are very differently constituted,' said Godwin. 'And then it
depends much on the nature of one's work.'

Uttering these commonplaces with an air of reflection, he observed that
they did not cost him the self-contempt which was wont to be his
penalty for concession to the terms of polite gossip; rather, his mind
accepted with gratitude this rare repose. He tasted something of the
tranquil self-content which makes life so enjoyable when one has never
seen a necessity for shaping original remarks. No one in this room
would despise him for a platitude, were it but recommended with a
pleasant smile. With the Moxeys, with Earwaker, he durst not thus have
spoken.

When the hour of separation was at hand, Buckland invited his guest to
retire with him to a part of the house where they could smoke and chat
comfortably.

'Moorhouse and Louis are fagged after their twenty mile stretch this
morning; I have caught both of them nodding during the last few
minutes. We can send them to bed without apology.'

He led the way upstairs to a region of lumber-rooms, whence a narrow
flight of steps brought them into a glass-house, octangular and with
pointed tops, out upon the roof. This, he explained, had been built
some twenty years ago, at a time when Mr. Warricombe amused himself
with photography. A few indications of its original purposes were still
noticeable; an easel and a box of oil-colours showed that
someone--doubtless of