'I was very glad to hear from Mr. Warricombe a few days ago, he continued. Sidwell was not aware that her father had written, but her pleased smile seemed to signify the contrary. 'She looks younger,' Peak said in his mind. 'Perhaps that London dress and the new way of arranging her hair have something to do with it. But no, she looks younger in herself. She must have been enjoying the pleasures of town.' 'You have been constantly occupied, no doubt,' he added aloud, feeling at the same time that this was a clumsy expression of what he meant. Though he had unbuttoned his overcoat, and seated himself as easily as he could, the absurd tall hat which he held embarrassed him; to deposit it on the floor demanded an effort of which he was yet incapable. 'I have seen many things and heard much talk,' Sidwell was replying, in a gay tone. It irritated him; he would have preferred her to speak with more of the old pensiveness. Yet perhaps she was glad simply because she found herself again talking with him? 'And you?' she went on. 'It has not been all work, I hope?' 'Oh no! I have had many pleasant intervals.' This was in imitation of her vivacity. He felt the words and the manner to be ridiculous, but could not restrain himself. Every moment increased his uneasiness; the hat weighed in his hands like a lump of lead, and he was convinced that he had never looked so clownish. Did her smile signify criticism of his attitude? With a decision which came he knew not how, he let his hat drop to the floor and pushed it aside. There, that was better; he felt less of a bumpkin. Sidwell glanced at the glossy grotesque, but instantly averted her eyes, and asked rather more gravely: 'Have you been in Exeter all the time?' 'Yes.' 'But you didn't spend your Christmas alone, I hope?' 'Oh, I had my books.' Was there not a touch of natural pathos in this? He hoped so; then mocked at himself for calculating such effects. 'I think you don't care much for ordinary social pleasures, Mr Peak?' He smiled bitterly. 'I have never known much of them,--and you remember that I look forward to a life in which they will have little part. Such a life,' he continued, after a pause, 'seems to you unendurably dull? I noticed that, when I spoke of it before.' 'You misunderstood me.' She said it so undecidedly that he gazed at her with puzzled look. Her eyes fell. 'But you like society?' 'If you use the word in its narrowest meaning,' she answered, 'then I not only dislike society, but despise it.'