as modified by the creeping hours of time, was known only to those who watched the circumstances of her history.Personally, she was the comb

character of hostess, face to face with a man she had never seen before--moreover, looking at him with a Miranda-like curiosity and interest that she had never yet bestowed on a mortal.On this particular day her father, the vicar of a parish on the sea-swept outskirts of Lower Wessex, and a widower, was suffering from an attack of gout. After finishing her household supervisions Elfride became restless, and several times left the room, ascended the staircase, and knocked at her father's chamber- door.'Come in!' was always answered in a hearty out-of-door voice from the inside.'Papa,' she said on one occasion to the fine, red-faced, handsome man of forty, who, puffing and fizzing like a bursting bottle, lay on the bed wrapped in a dressing-gown, and every now and then enunciating, in spite of himself, about one letter of some word or words that were almost oaths; 'papa, will you not come downstairs this evening?' She spoke distinctly: he was rather deaf.'Afraid not--eh-hh !--very much afraid I shall not, Elfride. Piph-ph-ph! I can't bear even a handkerchief upon this deuced toe of mine, much less a stocking or slipper--piph-ph-ph! There 'tis again! No, I shan't get up till to-morrow.''Then I hope this London man won't come; for I don't know what I should do, papa.''Well, it would be awkward, certainly.''I should hardly think he would come to-day.''Why?''Because the wind blows so.''Wind! What ideas you have, Elfride! Who ever heard of wind stopping a man from doing his business? The idea of this toe of mine coming on so suddenly!...If he should come, you must send him up to me, I suppose, and then give him some food and put him to bed in some way. Dear me, what a nuisance all this is!''Must he have dinner?''Too heavy for a tired man at the end of a tedious journey.''Tea, then?''Not subst