Forbidden this, forbidden that; permitted--the pride of ladyhood. And she
was not a lady, after all. What lady would have permitted herself to
exchange names and addresses with a strange man in a railway
carriage--furtively, too, escaping her father's observation? If not a lady,
what _was_ she? It meant the utter failure of her breeding and education.
The sole end for which she had lived was frustrate. A common, vulgar young
woman--well mated, doubtless, with an impudent clerk, whose noisy talk was
of beer and tobacco!

This arrested her. Stung to the defence of her friend, who, clerk though he
might be, was neither impudent nor vulgar, she found herself driven back
upon self-respect. The battle went on for hours; it exhausted her; it undid
all the good effects of sun and sea, and left her flaccid, pale.

'I'm afraid the journey yesterday was too much for you,' remarked Mr.
Whiston, after observing her as she sat mute the next evening.

'I shall soon recover,' Rose answered coldly.

The father meditated with some uneasiness. He had not forgotten Rose's
singular expression of opinion after their dinner at the inn. His affection
made him sensitive to changes in the girl's demeanour. Next summer they
must really find a more bracing resort. Yes, yes; clearly Rose needed
bracing. But she was always better when the cool days came round.

On the morrow it was his daughter's turn to feel anxious. Mr. Whiston all
at once wore a face of indignant severity. He was absent-minded; he sat at
table with scarce a word; he had little nervous movements, and subdued
mutterings as of wrath. This continued on a second day, and Rose began to
suffer an intolerable agitation. She could not help connecting her father's