of the squire’s past life, the latter became vague and gave ambiguous answers to any direct questions addressed to him.  He evidently disliked talking of himself, though he would talk about anything else that occurred to him with a fluency which Mrs. Ambrose declared was the only un-English thing about him.  The consequence was that the vicar became more and more interested in his new acquaintance, and though the squire was so frank and honest a man that it was impossible to suspect him of any doubtful action in the past, Mr. Ambrose suspected that he had a secret.  Indeed after hearing the story Mrs. Goddard had confided to his ears, nothing would have surprised the vicar.  After finding that so good, so upright and so honourable a woman as the fair tenant of the cottage could be put into such a singularly painful position as that in which she now found herself, it was not hard to imagine that this singular person who had inherited the Hall might also have some weighty reason for loving the solitude of Billingsfield.

To chronicle the small events which occurred in that Arcadian parish, would be to overstep the bounds of permissible tediousness.  In such places all events move slowly and take long to develop to their results.  The passions which in our own quickly moving world spring up, flourish, wither and are cut down in a month require, when they are not stimulated by the fertilising heat of artificial surroundings, a longer period for their growth; and when that growth is attained they are likely to be stronger and more deeply rooted.  It is not true that the study of them is less interesting, nor that they have less importance in themselves.  The difficulty of narrative is greater when they are to be described, for it is necessary to carry the imagination in a short time over a long period, to show how from small incidents great results follow, and to show also how the very limited and trivial nature of the surroundings may cause important things to be overlooked.  Amidst such influences acquaintance is soon made between the few persons so thrown together, but each is apt to regard such new acquaintance merely as bearing upon his or her own particular interests.  It is surprising to see how people will live side by side in solitude, even in danger, in distant settlements, in the mining districts of the West, in up-country stations in India, on board ship, even, for months and years, without knowing anything of each other’s previous history; whereas in the crowded centres of civilisation and society the first questions are “Where does he come from?” “What are his antecedents?” “What has he done in the world?” And unless a man can answer such inquiries to the general satisfaction he is likely to be heavily handicapped in the social race.  But in more primitive situations men are ruled by more primitive feelings of mutual respect; it is considered that a man should not be pressed to speak of things he shows no desire to discuss and that, provided he does not interfere with his neighbour’s wellbeing, his past life is nobody’s business.  One may feel curiosity concerning him, but under no circumstances is one justified in asking questions.