possible to have found a girl who suited
better with my aspirations. She has known the hardships of poverty,
poor thing, and that will keep her for ever in sympathy with the
downtrodden classes. She has a splendid intelligence, and it shall be
cultivated to the utmost.'

'One word,' said Earwaker, soberly. 'We have heard before of men who
waited for girls to grow up. Be cautious, my dear fellow, both on your
own account and hers.'

'My dear Earwaker! Don't imagine for a moment that I take it for
granted she will get to be fond of me. My attitude is one of the most
absolute discretion. You must have observed how I behaved to them
all--scrupulous courtesy, I trust; no more familiarity than any friend
might be permitted. I should never dream of addressing the girls
without ceremonious prefix--never! I talk of Bella's education, but be
assured that I regard my own as a matter of quite as much importance. I
mean, that I shall strive incessantly to make myself worthy of her. No
laxity! For these next three years I shall live as becomes a man who
has his eyes constantly on a high ideal--the pure and beautiful girl
whom he humbly hopes to win for a wife.'

The listener was moved. He raised his wine-glass to conceal the smile
which might have been misunderstood. In his heart he felt more
admiration than had yet mingled with his liking for this strange fellow.

'And Mrs. Jacox herself,' pursued Malkin; 'she has her weaknesses, as
we all have. I don't think her a very strong-minded woman, to tell the
truth. But there's a great deal of goodness in her. If there's one
thing I desire in people, it is the virtue of gratitude, and Mrs Jacox
is grateful almost to excess for the paltry exertions I have made on
her behalf. You know that kind of thing costs me nothing; you know I
like running about and getting things done. But the poor woman imagines
that I have laid her under an eternal obligation. Of course I shall
show her in time that it was nothing at all; that she might have done
just as much for herself if she had known how to go about it.'

Earwaker was musing, a wrinkle of uneasiness at the corner of his eye.

'She isn't the kind of woman, you know, one can regard as a mother. But
we are the best possible friends. She _may_, perhaps, think of me as a
possible son-in-law. Poor thing; I hope she does. Perhaps it will help
to put her mind at rest about the girls.'

'Then shall you often be down at Wrotham?' inquired the journa