o desired to live a cleanly life,
and to see others do the same, might without hesitation become a
clergyman. The old formulae of subscription were so symbolised, so
volatilised, that they could not stand in the way of anyone but a
combative nihilist. Peak was conscious of positive ideals by no means
inconsistent with Christian teaching, and in his official capacity
these alone would direct him.

He spent his evening pleasantly, often laughing as he recalled a phrase
or gesture of the Rev. Bruno's.

In the night fell a sprinkling of snow, and when the sun rose it
gleamed from a sky of pale, frosty blue. At ten o'clock Godwin set out
for his usual walk, choosing the direction of the Old Tiverton Road. It
was a fortnight since he had passed the Warricombes' house. At present
he was disposed to indulge the thoughts which a sight of it would make
active.

He had begun the ascent of the hill when the sound of an approaching
vehicle caused him to raise his eyes--they were generally fixed on the
ground when he walked alone. It was only a hired fly. But, as it passed
him, he recognised the face he had least expected to see,--Sidwell
Warricombe sat in the carriage, and unaccompanied. She noticed
him--smiled--and bent forward. He clutched at his hat, but it happened
that the driver had turned to look at him, and, instead of the salute
he had intended, his hand waved to the man to stop. The gesture was
scarcely voluntary; when he saw the carriage pull up, his heart sank;
he felt guilty of monstrous impudence. But Sidwell's face appeared at
the window, and its expression was anything but resentful; she offered
her hand, too. Without preface of formal phrase he exclaimed:

'How delightful to see you so unexpectedly! Are you all here?'

'Only mother and I. We have come for a day or two.'

'Will you allow me to call? If only for a few minutes'----

'We shall be at home this afternoon.'

'Thank you! Don't you enjoy the sunshine after London?'

'Indeed I do!'

He stepped back and signed to the driver. Sidwell bent her head and was
out of sight.

But the carriage was visible for some distance, and even when he could
no longer see it he heard the horse's hoofs on the hard road. Long
after the last sound had died away his heart continued to beat
painfully, and he breathed as if recovering from a hard run.

How beautiful were these lanes and hills, even in mid-winter! Once more
he sang aloud in his joyous solitude. The hope h