ad-alive
existence?'

'Satisfied? No life could suit me better.'

'You really think of living here indefinitely?'

'As far as I am concerned, I hope nothing may ever disturb us.'

'And to the end of your life you will scent yourself with sweetbrier?
Do try a bit of mint for a change.'

'Certainly, if it will please you.'

'Seriously, I think you might all come to town for next winter. You are
rusting, all of you. Father was never so dull, and mother doesn't seem
to know how to pass the days. It wouldn't be bad for Louis to be living
with you instead of in lodgings. Do just think of it. It's ages since
you heard a concert, or saw a picture.'

Sidwell mused, and her brother watched her askance.

'I don't know whether the others would care for it,' she said, 'but I
am not tempted by a winter of fog.'

'Fog? Pooh! Well, there is an occasional fog, just now and then, but
it's much exaggerated. Who ever thinks of the weather in England? Fanny
might have a time at Bedford College or some such place-she learns
nothing here. Think it over. Father would be delighted to get among the
societies, and so on.'

He repeated his arguments in many forms, and Sidwell listened
patiently, until they were joined by Mr. Warricombe, whereupon the
subject dropped; to be resumed, however, in correspondence, with a
persistency which Buckland seldom exhibited in anything which affected
the interests of his relatives. As the summer drew on, Mrs Warricombe
began to lend serious ear to this suggestion of change, and Martin was
at all events moved to discuss the pros and cons of half a year in
London. Sidwell preserved neutrality, seldom making an allusion to the
project; but Fanny supported her brother's proposal with sprightly
zeal, declaring on one occasion that she began distinctly to feel the
need of 'a higher culture', such as London only could supply.

In the meantime there had been occasional interchange of visits between
the family and their friends at Budleigh Salterton. One evening, when
Mrs. Moorhouse and Sylvia were at the Warricombes', three or four
Exeter people came to dine, and among the guests was Godwin Peak--his
invitation being due in this instance to Sylvia's express wish to meet
him again.

'I am studying men,' she had said to Sidwell not long before, when the
latter was at the seaside with her. 'In our day this is the proper
study of womankind. Hitherto we have given serious attention only to
one another. Mr. Pe