The Rectory at Shagisham had the great charm of situation. In his study old Mr. Winfrith stood on the same level as the top of his church steeple, and his windows commanded wide views of the valley where lay the scattered houses composing his cure, of the low hills beyond, and of the sea. The best had been done that could be done with the steep, wind-swept garden, and the square, low rooms, which had seen little, if any, alteration in forty years, opened out upon a lawn kept green with constant watering. To Cecily the old-fashioned house, with its curious air of austere, unfeminine refinement, was very interesting. She had never seen a country clergyman at home, and her imagination had formed a picture of Winfrith's father very different from the small, delicate-looking old man who welcomed her and Mrs. Robinson with great warmth of manner, while Winfrith himself showed almost boyish pleasure at the unexpected visit. 'They must be very lonely here sometimes,' was Cecily's unspoken thought, as the old clergyman ushered her with some ceremony into the drawing-room, which had the curious unlived-in look so often seen in a room associated, to those still living, with a dead woman's presence. Before passing out on to the lawn Mr. Winfrith directed Cecily's attention to a portrait which hung over the mantelpiece. It was that of a brilliant-looking girl, dressed more or less gipsy-fashion, the colouring of her red cheeks, so bright as to give the impression that the sitter had rouged, being daringly repeated in a scarf twisted round her dark hair. 'David's mother,' he said proudly. 'Do you not think there is a great likeness between them?' Cecily looked doubtfully at the picture. 'Of course he is not nearly so handsome'--Mr. Winfrith spoke rather plaintively--' but I assure you he is really very like her. This portrait was painted before our marriage. Lord Wantley--I mean Mrs. Robinson's father--thought it one of the best ever painted by the artist'--Mr. Winfrith looked puzzled--' I forget his name, though at one time I knew him quite well. I'm sure you would know it, for he's a great man. He was often at Monk's Eype, and painted Lady Wantley several times. But this was one of his early efforts, and I myself'--the old man lowered his voice, fearing lest the stricture should be overheard by his other guest--' much prefer his earlier manner.' And then he led her out into the garden, and handed her over to the care of his son, while he himself turned eagerly, confidingly, to Penelope. David Winfrith at Shagisham, waiting on his old father, acting as courteous host to his own and that dear father's guest, seemed a very different person from the man who acted as mentor to the Melancthon Settlement.