’That’s a great deal to say of an architect, for of all professional men they are, as a rule, the most professional.’

’Yes; perhaps they are.  This man is rather of a melancholy turn of mind, I think.’

‘Has the managing clerk any family?’ she mildly asked, after a while, pouring out some more tea.

‘Family; no!’

‘Well, dear Owen, how should I know?’

’Why, of course he isn’t married.  But there happened to be a conversation about women going on in the office, and I heard him say what he should wish his wife to be like.’

‘What would he wish his wife to be like?’ she said, with great apparent lack of interest.

’O, he says she must be girlish and artless:  yet he would be loth to do without a dash of womanly subtlety, ’tis so piquant.  Yes, he said, that must be in her; she must have womanly cleverness.  “And yet I should like her to blush if only a cock-sparrow were to look at her hard,” he said, “which brings me back to the girl again:  and so I flit backwards and forwards.  I must have what comes, I suppose,” he said, “and whatever she may be, thank God she’s no worse.  However, if he might give a final hint to Providence,” he said, “a child among pleasures, and a woman among pains was the rough outline of his requirement."’

‘Did he say that?  What a musing creature he must be.’

‘He did, indeed.’

3.  From the twelfth to the fifteenth of July

As is well known, ideas are so elastic in a human brain, that they have no constant measure which may be called their actual bulk.  Any important idea may be compressed to a molecule by an unwonted crowding of others; and any small idea will expand to whatever length and breadth of vacuum the mind may be able to make over to it.  Cytherea’s world was tolerably vacant at this time, and the young architectural designer’s image became very pervasive.  The next evening this subject was again renewed.

‘His name is Springrove,’ said Owen, in reply to her.  ’He is a thorough artist, but a man of rather humble origin, it seems, who has made himself so far.  I think he is the son of a farmer, or something of the kind.’

‘Well, he’s none the worse for that, I suppose.’

’None the worse.  As we come down the hill, we shall be continually meeting people going up.’  But Owen had felt that Springrove was a little the worse nevertheless.

‘Of course he’s rather old by this time.’

‘O no.  He’s about six-and-twenty—­not more.’

‘Ah, I see. . . .  What is he like, Owen?’

’I can’t exactly tell you his appearance:  ’tis always such a difficult thing to do.’

’A man you would describe as short?  Most men are those we should describe as short, I fancy.’

’I should call him, I think, of the middle height; but as I only see him sitting in the office, of course I am not certain about his form and figure.’