2. X. SHE FAILS TO VANISH STILL
Pierston had not turned far back towards the castle when he was overtaken by Somers and the man who carried his painting lumber. They paced together to the door; the man deposited the articles and went away, and the two walked up and down before entering.
‘I met an extremely interesting woman in the road out there,’ said the painter.
‘Ah, she is! A sprite, a sylph; Psyche indeed!’
‘I was struck with her.’
‘It shows how beauty will out through the homeliest guise.’
‘Yes, it will; though not always. And this case doesn’t prove it, for the lady’s attire was in the latest and most approved taste.’
‘Oh, you mean the lady who was driving?’
‘Of course. What, were you thinking of the pretty little cottage-girl outside here? I did meet her, but what’s she? Very well for one’s picture, though hardly for one’s fireside. This lady—’
‘Is Mrs. Pine-Avon. A kind, proud woman, who’ll do what people with no pride would not condescend to think of. She is leaving Budmouth to-morrow, and she drove across to see me. You know how things seemed to be going with us at one time? But I am no good to any woman. She’s been very generous towards me, which I’ve not been to her.... She’ll ultimately throw herself away upon some wretch unworthy of her, no doubt.’