’My friends here have made the time very pleasant.  Naturally, I don’t like leaving them.’

He was a little abrupt, and decidedly showed the less genial phase of his disposition.

‘Have some tea,’ said Alma, ’and warm yourself at the fire.  You will thaw presently, Mr. Thistlewood.  I suppose, like other unregenerate men, you live in rooms?  Has that kind of life an irresistible charm for you?’

He looked at her with a frown which, to say the least, was discouraging; it changed, however, to a more amiable expression as she handed him his tea.

‘What do you imagine my income is, Mrs. Rolfe?’ came growlingly from him.

‘I have no idea.  You mean, I’m afraid’ —­ Alma’s voice fell upon its gentlest note —­ ’that it doesn’t allow you to think of —­ of any change?’

‘It ought not to allow me,’ replied the other.  ’I have about two hundred pounds a year, and can’t hope much more for a long time.’

‘And that,’ exclaimed Alma, ’seems to you insufficient?  I should have thought in a little town —­ so far away —­ Oh! you want to surround yourself with luxuries ——­’

’I don’t! —­ I beg your pardon, Mrs. Rolfe, I meant to say that you surely know me better.’  His hand trembled and spilt the tea, which he had not yet touched.  ‘But how can you suppose that —­ that anyone ——?’

He turned his face to the fire, the light of which made his eyes glare fiercely.  Forthwith, Alma launched upon a spirited remonstrance.  Never, even in the days just before her marriage, had she been so fervid and eloquent on behalf of the ‘simple life’.  Two hundred pounds!  Why, it was wealth for rational people!  She inveighed against display and extravagance.

’You are looking round the room. —­ Oh, don’t apologise; it was quite natural.  I confess, and I’m ashamed of myself.  But ask Mrs. Abbott to tell you about our little house in Wales; she came once to see us there.  We lived —­ oh so simply and cheaply; and it was our happiest time.  If only we could go back to it!  But the world has been too much for us.  People call it comfort; it means, I assure you, ceaseless trouble and worry.  Who knows? some day we may come to our senses, and shake off the burden.’

Thistlewood smiled.

‘If we could all have cottages among the mountains,’ he said.  ’But a little provincial town ——­’

’Set an example!  Who would have a better right to defy foolish prejudice?  A teacher of the beautiful —­ you might do infinite good by showing how beautifully one can live without obeying mere fashion in a single point.’

‘I heartily agree with you,’ replied Thistlewood, setting down his empty cup.  ’You express my own thoughts much better than I could myself.  And your talk has done me good, Mrs. Rolfe.  Thank you for treating me with such friendly kindness.’

Therewith he rose and said goodbye to her, with a hope that they might meet again.  Alma was vexed that he would not stay longer and take her more completely into his confidence; but she echoed the hope, and smiled upon him with much sweetness.