Mr. Kelly looked appealingly towards Prue, who had been noting with pleasure his greater decision and readiness of speech. The old self-distrust and shyness had markedly lessened. "If the entire horizon of his life is filled with that one object, no room remains for a higher aim to come in. He is absorbed in his work for its own sake—and that is the sum of the matter. I wish one could bring some other element into his life—something outside and beyond mere personal success." "There is Lettice," Prue said. "True: but they rarely meet. Perhaps in London his circle may widen. He has been in a narrowing groove at Brighton. The young fellow works manfully: and he is self-controlled—almost extraordinarily so. The resoluteness of his life would be admirable, if only the expenditure of will were for some loftier object—including this, but not this exclusively. I would not do away with the good I find in him, but certainly I would add to it." Mr. Kelly did not often flow so easily in conversation. He was subject commonly to fits of silence, or of shy hesitation: but Prue's intent serious face drew him on: and unconsciously, he enjoyed having her for a listener. She was appreciative. "Will you ask Mr. Anderson to come and see us, if he is within reach?" asked Mrs. Valentine. "I have found him lodgings in this Parish—not wishing to lose sight of him. Thanks: nothing could be better. I shall hope much from Miss Valentine's influence . . . I have seen this self-absorption closing in upon an older man, but rarely in one so young. There is danger of its becoming a positive ossification." A little more in the same strain, and Mr. Kelly took his leave. Prue closed the door, and came back to her mother. "That explains—partly—the grieved tone of Lettice's last letter," she said. "Mr. Kelly is very good to interest himself in Felix Anderson." "He has the power. It is part of his work. It would not be right not—" said Prue dreamily. "Mr. Kelly looks older." "Naturally." "Yes, quite naturally. He will be very busy here. I do not suppose we shall see much of him." "No—perhaps not." "You have dropped a stitch, mother. Let me see." She worked steadily at the knitting for some minutes, then gave it back, remarking, "Now I have put things right." "Prue—" "Yes." "I have been thinking so much to-day about my own past. About when I was a girl." Prue was a little surprised. Mrs. Valentine seldom talked voluntarily of herself. "One sees the meaning of things—looking back. There was a time when I would have given all I possessed for a different life from this that I have had." "Don't most people go through that—more or less?"