Moreover, she had not forgotten that strange, new feeling which disturbed her heart the morning after Mr.Smallwood was taken ill; and she experienced, half unconsciously, a thoroughly feminine resentment against the man who had called into being such an emotion, and then apparently had found no use for it.

So Elisabeth in her heart of hearts was at war with Christopher--that slumbering, smouldering sort of warfare which is ready to break out into fire and battle at the slightest provocation; and this state of affairs did not tend to make life any the easier for him.

He felt he could have cheerfully borne it all if only Elisabeth had been kind and had understood; but Elisabeth did not understand him in the least, and was consequently unkind--far more unkind than she, in her careless, light-hearted philosophy, dreamed of.
She, too, had her disappointments to bear just then.

The artist-soul in her had grown up, and was crying out for expression; and she vainly prayed her cousin to let her go to the Slade School, and there learn to develop the power that was in her.

But Miss Farringdon belonged to the generation which regarded art purely as a recreation--such as fancy-work, croquet, and the like--and she considered that young women should be trained for the more serious things of life; by which she meant the ordering of suitable dinners for the rich and the manufacturing of seemly garments for the poor.