 more generally
interesting accompanied him in the shape of a young and beautiful wife. Not
every geologist whose years have entered the fifties can go forth and capture in
second marriage a charming New England girl, thirty years his junior. Yet those
who knew Mr. Gale - his splendid physique, his bluff cordiality, the vigour of
his various talk - were scarcely surprised. The young lady was no heiress; she
had, in fact, been a school teacher, and might have wearied through her best
years in that uncongenial pursuit. Transplanted to the richest English soil, she
developed remarkable aptitudes. A month or two of London exhibited her as a type
of all that is most attractive in American womanhood.
    Between Mrs. Gale and the Warricombes intimacy was soon established. Sidwell
saw much of her, and liked her. To this meditative English girl the young
American offered an engrossing problem, for she avowed her indifference to all
religious dogmas, yet was singularly tolerant and displayed a moral fervour
which Sidwell had believed inseparable from Christian faith. At the Gales' house
assembled a great variety of intellectual people, and with her father's express
approval (Martin had his reasons) Sidwell made the most of this opportunity of
studying the modern world. Only a few days after her arrival in London, she
became acquainted with a Mr. Walsh, a brother of that heresiarch, the Whitelaw
Professor, whose name was still obnoxious to her mother. He was a well-favoured
man of something between thirty and forty, brilliant in conversation, personally
engaging, and known by his literary productions, which found small favour with
conservative readers. With surprise, Sidwell in a short time became aware that
Mr. Walsh had a frank liking for her society. He was often to be seen in Mrs.
Warricombe's drawing-room, and at Mrs. Gale's he yet more frequently obtained
occasions of talking with her. The candour with which he expressed himself on
most subjects enabled her to observe a type of mind which at present had
peculiar interest for her. Discretion often put restraint upon her curiosity,
but none the less Mr. Walsh had plausible grounds for believing that his
advances were not unwelcome. He saw that Sidwell's gaze occasionally rested upon
him with a pleasant gravity, and noted the mood of meditation which sometimes
came upon her when he had drawn apart. The frequency of these dialogues was
observed by Mrs. Warricombe, and one evening she broached the subject to her
daughter rather abruptly.
    »I am surprised that you have taken such a liking to Mr. Walsh.«
    Sidwell coloured, and
