, in a tone of grave kindness,
'from your strange inability to grant that on certain matters you may
be wholly misled.'

'It does.'

'Well, well; that is forbidden ground. But do try to be less narrow.
Are you unable then to meet Peak in a friendly way?'

'Oh, by no means! It seems more than likely that I have wronged him.'

'Well said! Keep your mind open. I marvel at the dogmatism of men who
are set on overthrowing dogma. Such a position is so strangely
unphilosophic that I don't know how a fellow of your brains can hold it
for a moment. If I were not afraid of angering you,' Martin added, in
his pleasantest tone, 'I would quote the Master of Trinity.'

'A capital epigram, but it is repeated too often.'

Mr. Warricombe shook his head, and with a laugh rose to say good-night.

'It's a great pity,' he remarked next day to Sidwell, who had been
saying that her brother seemed less vivacious than usual, 'that
Buckland is defective on the side of humour. For a man who claims to be
philosophical he takes things with a rather obtuse seriousness. I know
nothing better than humour as a protection against the kind of mistake
he is always committing.'

The application of this was not clear to Sidwell.

'Has something happened to depress him?' she asked.

'Not that I know of. I spoke only of his general tendency to
intemperate zeal. That is enough to account for intervals of reaction.
And how much sounder his judgment of men would be if he could only see
through a medium of humour now and then! You know he is going over to
Budleigh Salterton this afternoon?'

Sidwell smiled, and said quietly:

'I thought it likely he would.'

At Budleigh Salterton, a nook on the coast some fifteen miles away,
Sylvia Moorhouse was now dwelling. Her mother, a widow of substantial
means, had recently established herself there, in the proximity of
friends, and the mathematical brother made his home with them. That
Buckland took every opportunity of enjoying Sylvia's conversation was
no secret; whether the predilection was mutual, none of his relatives
could say, for in a matter such as this Buckland was by nature disposed
to reticence. Sidwell's intimacy with Miss Moorhouse put her in no
better position than the others for forming an opinion; she could only
suspect that the irony which flavoured Sylvia's talk with and
concerning the Radical, intimated a lurking kindness. Buckland's
preference was easily understood, and its growth for f