“Miss Gerald's taste is as yet only approaching the right tracks of culture. One shudders, anticipating the effect another month of life in such a place as this may have upon her. For my own part, I do not suppose that I shall be myself again for at least a year after I return. I feel my taste utterly demoralised through the two months of my stay here; and I explained to my father that it will be necessary for him to resign his see if he wishes to have me near him at all. It is quite impossible for me to come out here again. The three months' absence from England that my visit entails is ruinous to me.” “I have always thought of your self-sacrifice as an example of true filial duty, Mr. Glaston. I know that Daireen thinks so as well.” But Mr. Glaston did not seem particularly anxious to talk of Daireen. “Yes; my father must resign his see,” he continued. “The month I have just passed has left too terrible recollections behind it to allow of my running a chance of its being repeated. The only person I met in the colony who was not hopelessly astray was that Miss Vincent.” “Oh!” cried Mrs. Crawford, almost shocked. “Oh, Mr. Glaston! you surely do not mean that! Good gracious!--Lottie Vincent!” “Miss Vincent was the only one who, I found, had any correct idea of Art; and yet, you see, how she turned out.” “Turned out? I should think so indeed. Lottie Vincent was always turning out since the first time I met her.” “Yes; the idea of her acting in company of such a man as this Markham--a man who had no hesitation in going to view a picture by candlelight--it is too distressing.” “My dear Mr. Glaston, I think they will get on very well together. You do not know Lottie Vincent as I know her. She has behaved with the most shocking ingratitude towards me. But we are parted now, and I shall take good care she does not impose upon me again.” “It scarcely matters how one's social life is conducted if one's artistic life is correct,” said Mr. Glaston. At this assertion, which she should have known to be one of the articles of Mr. Glaston's creed, Mrs. Crawford gave a little start. She thought it better, however, not to question its soundness. As a matter of fact, the bishop himself, if he had heard his son enunciate such a precept, would not have questioned its soundness; for Mr. Glaston spake as one having authority, and most people whose robustness was not altogether mental, believed his Gospel of Art. “No doubt what you say is--ah--very true,” said Mrs. Crawford. “But I do wish, Mr. Glaston, that you could find time to talk frequently to Daireen on these subjects. I should be so sorry if the dear child's ideas were allowed to run wild. Your influence might work wonders with her. There is no one here now who can interfere with you.” “Interfere with me, Mrs. Crawford?” “I mean, you know, that Mr. Harwood, with his meretricious cleverness, might possibly--ah--well, you know how easily girls are led.”