Again, the principles of plot structure are clearly seen quietly creating their unified impression in _A Sea Change_, one of Alice Brown's homely stories.[2] Cynthia Miller, a New England housewife, had lived for years her life of dull routine in an isolated mountain farm eight miles from the nearest village. Her husband, Timothy, 'was a son of the soil, made out of the earth, and not many generations removed from that maternity.' Cynthia gradually comes to despise her life and her husband's crude carelessness--exemplified by his habitual animal aura and his newly-greased boots by the open oven door. With little ado, but with grim determination, she leaves him and goes to the sea-side home of her sister Frances. Cynthia is taken ill, but is at length cured by the kindly village doctor and the silent ministrations of the neighboring sea. Timothy, changed by the sudden departure of his wife and the opportunity for introspection that his lonely life now brings him, shakes off a bit of his earthiness and goes, after several weeks, to find his wife. We listen to the brief reconciliation and see Timothy begin to breathe in new life of aroused love and appreciation. The author's skillful manipulation of the action makes us live in the glow of a clearly perceived oneness of impression. There are, of course, thousands of stories which secure this singleness of effect by a similar skill in the handling of situations and incidents. Among these many we need mention only a few whose unity is largely secured by plot-interest--Thomas Bailey Aldrich's _Marjorie Daw_, Maupassant's _The Necklace_, Poe's _Murders in the Rue Morgue_, Stockton's _A Tale of Negative Gravity_ and _The Lady or the Tiger_, Kipling's _Without Benefit of Clergy_, Pushkin's _The Shot_, A. Conan Doyle's _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_, and Jack London's _A Day's Lodging_. _Unified impression secured by setting_ Perhaps the most significant critical comment on setting--the third important element in the story-weaving process that secures oneness of impression--is that frequently quoted conversation of Stevenson with Graham Balfour: 'You may,' said Stevenson, 'take a certain atmosphere and get action and persons to express it. I'll give you an example--_The Merry Men_. There I began with the feeling of one of those islands on the west coast of Scotland, and I gradually developed the story to express the sentiment with which the coast affected me.'