The doctor and Fred went down with them. Darcy had decided to take a business trip, so presently Mrs. Darcy joined the seaside household. In the bygone years Mrs. Lawrence would not have deigned to notice her; but she found this delicate, mild-mannered, middle-aged woman very companionable. Circumstances had rendered Mrs. Darcy exclusive, rather than any inherent trait of birth or breeding. She had lived with a few people always, and two or three strong attachments had given to her character the kind of concentration that passes for strength. Yet all of these had been more positive people than herself; and while this had softened the tendency to that querulous exactingness that weak, sweet natures are apt to possess, it had also shaped to certain generous instincts that were quite free from vanity. Her natural kindliness gave her the charm of good-breeding, and this settled her in the estimation of Mrs. Lawrence. She might have possessed all the virtues in the calendar, but an inharmonious, unpolished turn or act would have tabooed her. We generally ascribe this grace to life-long culture, or a certain inheritance of blood, but it occasionally springs from other causes. The three women, with natures and aims widely different, fraternized in the most amiable manner. Sylvie glanced in and out between them as a gleam of sunshine penetrates the interstices of a wood, and brings out all lights and tints, itself untouched by any. Their greatest diversion was driving. Back of the little settlement--it was hardly large enough for a village, and had a powerful rival some seven miles farther on--there were country lanes and by-ways, sleepy-looking farms, and picturesquely careless houses. Below them there was a great fish _entrepôt_, with fishing-boats plying up and down, brawny fishermen trilling their musical half-chant, half-song, as they floated over the bay. It was curious how, presently, Sylvie came to watch for Fred. Truth to tell, she found Depford Beach a trifle monotonous. No interest of schools or clubs or young people's affairs, no strong energetic talks with Jack about mill business, few people coming and going that she cared about; the three ladies purring through the drowsy hours on topics that she fancied she had exhausted years ago; and Irene, between whom and her there had never been any real electric sympathy, and who was now coldly indifferent to all matters. For hours she would sit with her hands dropped nerveless in her lap, glancing over the wide sea out to the farther horizon. What thoughts were in her mind, Sylvie wondered? She could not even provoke her to the wordy combats of old. The flashes of temper and imperiousness had alike died out. She was courteously polite, and acknowledged all favors with a punctiliousness that built the wall around her still more firmly. "If one could only rouse her," Dr. Maverick said; but that seemed just the thing no one _could_ do.