'Ah, he has married again, I hear. One of the many changes that have
come to pass since I was last in Yorkshire.'

'Have you returned for good, Mr. Egerton?'

'For good--or for evil--who knows?' he answered, with a careless
laugh. 'As to whether I stay here so many weeks or so many years,
that is a matter of supreme uncertainty. I never am in the same mind
very long together. But I am heartily sick of knocking about abroad,
and I cannot possibly find life emptier or duller here than I have
found it in places that people call gay.'

'I can't fancy any one growing tired of such a place as the Priory,'
said Milly.

' "Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage." " 'Tis
in ourselves that we are thus or thus." Cannot you fancy a man
getting utterly tired of himself and his own thoughts--knowing
himself by heart, and finding the lesson a dreary one? Perhaps not.
A girl's life seems all brightness. What should such happy young
creatures know of that arid waste of years that lies beyond a man's
thirtieth birthday, when his youth has not been a fortunate one? Ah,
there is a break in the sky yonder; the rain will be over
presently.'

The rain did cease, as he had prophesied. The dog-cart was brought
round to the door by a clumsy-looking man in corduroy, who seemed
half groom, half gardener; and Mr. Egerton drove us home; Milly
sitting next him, I at the back. His horse was very good one, and