But in the evening we are all together, and then Mr.Carlyon or Elizabeth reads aloud." Malcolm was hard at work in his chambers long before the sisters returned to the Wood House.

His book had proved a great success, and the leading papers had reviewed it most favourably.

He had now commenced fresh work, and spent all his leisure hours at his desk.

When Amias Keston complained that the studio evenings were things of the past, Malcolm looked at him a little sadly.

"I can't help it, old fellow," he said gravely; "my social qualities are a bit rusty, but I will behave better by and bye;" and then he nodded to Verity, and went back to his papers and wrote on grimly, as though some unseen taskmaster were behind him, ready to scourge him on if he loitered.
"My work saved me--I had nothing else to live for," he said long afterwards; "nothing else fully occupied my thoughts and made me forget my trouble.