what time it was, and one such expedition, I well remember, took place
between two and three o'clock on a morning of foggy rain.

It happened now and then that, on reaching the house at Knightsbridge, I
was informed that Mr. --- felt too tired to rise. This concerned me
little, for it meant no deduction of fee; I had the two hours' walk, and
was all the better for it. Then the appetite with which I sat down to
breakfast, whether I had done my coaching or not! Bread and butter and
coffee--such coffee!--made the meal, and I ate like a navvy. I was in
magnificent spirits. All the way home I had been thinking of my day's
work, and the morning brain, clarified and whipped to vigour by that
brisk exercise, by that wholesome hunger, wrought its best. The last
mouthful swallowed, I was seated at my writing-table; aye, and there I
sat for seven or eight hours, with a short munching interval, working as
only few men worked in all London, with pleasure, zeal, hope. . . .

Yes, yes, those were the good days. They did not last long; before and
after them were cares, miseries, endurance multiform. I have always felt
grateful to Mr. --- of Knightsbridge; he gave me a year of health, and
almost of peace.



XII.


A whole day's walk yesterday with no plan; just a long ramble of hour
after hour, entirely enjoyable. It ended at Topsham, where I sat on the
little churchyard terrace, and watched the evening tide come up the broad
estuary. I have a great liking for Topsham, and that churchyard,