There, at least, he can forget himself for an hour.
He looks round the neat pleasant little place, with its cases of curiosities, and its exquisite photographs, and bright brass instruments; its glass vases stocked with delicate water-plants and animalcules, with the sunlight gleaming through the green and purple seaweed fronds, while the air is fresh and fragrant with the seaweed scent; a quiet, cool little hermitage of science amid that great noisy, luxurious west-end world.

At least, it brings back to him the thought of the summer sea, and Aberalva, and his shore-studies: but he cannot think of that any more.

It is past; and may God forgive him! At one of the microscopes on the slab opposite him stands a sturdy bearded man, his back toward the Major; while the wise little German, hopeless of customers, is leaning over him in his shirt sleeves.
"But I never have seen its like; it had just like a painter's easel in its stomach yesterday!" "Why, it's an Echinus Larva: a sucking sea-urchin! Hang it, if I had known you hadn't seen one, I'd have brought up half-a-dozen of them!" "May I look, sir ?" asked the Major; "I, too, never have seen an Echinus Larva." The bearded man looks up.
"Major Campbell!" "Mr.Thurnall! I thought I could not be mistaken in the voice." "This is too pleasant, sir, to renew our watery loves together here," said Tom: but a second look at the Major's face showed him that he was in no jesting mood.

"How is the party at Beddgelert?
I fancied you with them still." "They are all in London, at Lord Scoutbush's house, in Eaton Square." "In London, at this dull time?
I trust nothing unpleasant has brought them here." "Mrs.Vavasour is very ill.

We had thoughts of sending for you, as the family physician was out of town: but she was out of danger, thank God, in a few hours.