spirit of Beethoven Op. 112, even with the spirit of poor William Cowper
there at Olney. Like a ball of thistledown it kissed the sea, rose,
kissed it again, and thus rising and kissing passed finally out of
sight. The rising and falling of the ball of thistledown was represented
by the sudden droop forward of her own head, and when it passed out of
sight she was asleep.

Ten minutes later Mrs. Ambrose opened the door and looked at her. It did
not surprise her to find that this was the way in which Rachel passed
her mornings. She glanced round the room at the piano, at the books,
at the general mess. In the first place she considered Rachel
aesthetically; lying unprotected she looked somehow like a victim
dropped from the claws of a bird of prey, but considered as a woman,
a young woman of twenty-four, the sight gave rise to reflections. Mrs.
Ambrose stood thinking for at least two minutes. She then smiled, turned
noiselessly away and went, lest the sleeper should waken, and there
should be the awkwardness of speech between them.





Chapter III


Early next morning there was a sound as of chains being drawn roughly
overhead; the steady heart of the _Euphrosyne_ slowly ceased to beat;
and Helen, poking her nose above deck, saw a stationary castle upon a
stationary hill. They had dropped anchor in the mouth of the Tagus, and
instead of cleaving new waves perpetually, the same waves kept returning