After their marriage Anthony and Barbara hired a charming little Georgian house at Chelsea near to the river. The drawback to the dwelling was that it stood quite close to a place of public entertainment called “The Gardens,” very well known in those days as the nightly haunt of persons who were not always as respectable as they might have been. During their sojourn in London they never entered these Gardens, but often in the summer evenings they passed them when out for the walks which they took together, since Anthony spent most of his days at the Temple, studying law in the chambers of a leading barrister. Thus their somewhat fantastic gateway became impressed upon Barbara’s mind, as did the character of the people who frequented them. As, however, their proximity reduced the rent of their own and neighbouring houses by about one-half, personally they were grateful to these Gardens, since the noise of the bands and the dancing did not trouble them much, and those who danced could always be avoided. When they had been married nearly a year a little daughter was born to them, a sweet baby with violet eyes like to those of Barbara. Now indeed their bliss was complete, but it was not fated that it should remain, since the hungry sea took its sacrifice. The summer was very hot in London, and many infants sickened there of some infantile complaint, among them their own child. Like hundreds of others, it died when only a few months old and left them desolate. Perhaps Anthony was the more crushed of the two, since here Barbara’s vivid faith came to her aid. “We have only lost her for a little while,” she said, choking back her tears as she laid some flowers on the little grave. “We shall find her again; I know that we shall find her again, and meanwhile she will be happier than she could have been with us in this sad world.” Then they walked back home, pushing their way through the painted crowds that were gathering at the gates of “The Gardens,” and listening to the strains of the gay music that jarred upon their ears. In due course, having been called to the Bar, Anthony entered the chambers of an eminent Common Law leader. Although his prospects were now good, and he was ere long likely to be independent of the profession, he was anxious to follow it and make a name and fortune for himself. This indeed he would have found little difficulty in doing, since soon he showed that he had studied to good purpose; moreover, his gifts were decidedly forensic. He spoke well and without nervousness; his memory was accurate and his mind logical. Moreover, he had something of that imaginative and sympathetic power which brings an advocate success with juries.