x children and possessed of
many virtues, he presently became a favourite,--she saw in him 'a great
deal of quiet moral force'. One or two families of good standing made
him welcome at their houses; society is very kind to those who seek its
benefits with recognised credentials. The more he saw of these wealthy
and tranquil middle-class people, the more fervently did he admire the
gracefulness of their existence. He had not set before himself an
imaginary ideal; the girls and women were sweet, gentle, perfect in
manner, and, within limits, of bright intelligence. He was conscious of
benefiting greatly, and not alone in things extrinsic, by the
atmosphere of such homes.

Nature's progress towards summer kept him in a mood of healthful
enjoyment. From the window of his sitting-room he looked over the
opposite houses to Northernhay, the hill where once stood Rougemont
Castle, its wooded declivities now fashioned into a public garden. He
watched the rooks at their building in the great elms, and was
gladdened when the naked branches began to deck themselves, day by day
the fresh verdure swelling into soft, graceful outline. In his walks he
pried eagerly for the first violet, welcomed the earliest blackthorn
blossom; every common flower of field and hedgerow gave him a new, keen
pleasure. As was to be expected he found the same impulses strong in
Sidwell Warricombe and her sister. Sidwell could tell him of secret
spots where the wood-sorrel made haste to flower, or where the white
violet breathed its fragrance in security from common pilferers. Here
was the safest and pleasantest matter for conversation. He knew that on
such topics he could talk agreeably enough, revealing without stress or
importunity his tastes, his powers, his attainments. And it seemed to
him that Sidwell listened with growing interest. Most certainly her
father encouraged his visits to the house, and Mrs. Warricombe behaved
to him with increase of suavity.

In the meantime he had purchased a copy of Reusch's _Bibel und Natur_,
and had made a translation of some fifty pages. This experiment he
submitted to a London publishing house, with proposals for the
completion of the work; without much delay there came a civil letter of
excuse, and with it the sample returned. Another attempt again met with
rejection. This failure did not trouble him. What he really desired was
to read through his version of Reusch with Martin Warricombe, and
before long he had b