The walls of his new house were carried up nearly to their fullheight. By a curious though not infrequent reaction, Barnet'sfeelings about that unnecessary structure had undergone a change; hetook considerable interest in its progress as a long-neglectedthing, his wife before her departure having grown quite weary of itas a hobby. Moreover, it was an excellent distraction for a man inthe unhappy position of having to live in a provincial town withnothing to do. He was probably the first of his line who had everpassed a day without toil, and perhaps something like an inheritedinstinct disqualifies such men for a life of pleasant inaction, suchas lies in the power of those whose leisure is not a personalaccident, but a vast historical accretion which has become part oftheir natures.

　　Thus Barnet got into a way of spending many of his leisure hours onthe site of the new building, and he might have been seen on mostdays at this time trying the temper of the mortar by punching thejoints with his stick, looking at the grain of a floor-board, andmeditating where it grew, or picturing under what circumstances thelast fire would be kindled in the at present sootless chimneys. Oneday when thus occupied he saw three children pass by in the companyof a fair young woman, whose sudden appearance caused him to flushperceptibly.

　　'Ah, she is there,' he thought. 'That's a blessed thing.'

　　Casting an interested glance over the rising building and the busyworkmen, Lucy Savile and the little Downes passed by; and after thattime it became a regular though almost unconscious custom of Barnetto stand in the half-completed house and look from the ungarnishedwindows at the governess as she tripped towards the sea-shore withher young charges, which she was in the habit of doing on most fineafternoons. It was on one of these occasions, when he had beenloitering on the first-floor landing, near the hole left for thestaircase, not yet erected, that there appeared above the edge ofthe floor a little hat, followed by a little head.

　　Barnet withdrew through a doorway, and the child came to the top ofthe ladder, stepping on to the floor and crying to her sisters andMiss Savile to follow. Another head rose above the floor, andanother, and then Lucy herself came into view. The troop ran hitherand thither through the empty, shaving-strewn rooms, and Barnet cameforward.

　　Lucy uttered a small exclamation: she was very sorry that she hadintruded; she had not the least idea that Mr. Barnet was there: thechildren had come up, and she had followed.

　　Barnet replied that he was only too glad to see them there. 'Andnow, let me show you the rooms,' he said.

　　She passively assented, and he took her round. There was not muchto show in such a bare skeleton of a house, but he made the most ofit, and explained the different ornamental fittings that were soonto be fixed here and there. Lucy made but few remarks in reply,though she seemed pleased with her visit, and stole away down theladder, followed by her companions.

　　After this the new residence became yet more of a hobby for Barnet.

　　Downe's children did not forget their first visit, and when thewindows were glazed, and the handsome staircase spread its broad lowsteps into the hall, they came again, prancing in unweariedsuccession through every room from ground-floor to attics, whileLucy stood waiting for them at the door. Barnet, who rarely misseda day in coming to inspect progress, stepped out from the drawing-room.

　　'I could not keep them out,' she said, with an apologetic blush. 'Itried to do so very much: but they are rather wilful, and we aredirected to walk this way for the sea air.'

　　'Do let them make the house their regular playground, and youyours,' said Barnet. 'There is no better place for children to rompand take their exercise in than an empty house, particularly inmuddy or damp weather such as we shall get a good deal of now; andthis place will not be furnished for a long long time--perhapsnever. I am not at all decided about it.'

　　'O, but it must!' replied Lucy, looking round at the hall. 'Therooms are excellent, twice as high as ours; and the views from thewindows are so lovely.'

　　'I daresay, I daresay,' he said absently.

　　'Will all the furniture be new?' she asked.

　　'All the furniture be new--that's a thing I have not thought of. Infact I only come here and look on. My father's house would havebeen large enough for me, but another person had a voice in thematter, and it was settled that we should build. However, the placegrows upon me; its recent associations are c............