Mrs.Hurstwood was on the third floor, sitting in a rocking-chair reading, and happened to look out at the time.
"Who was that with you, Jessica ?" she inquired, as Jessica came upstairs.
"It's Mr.Blyford, mamma," she replied.

"Is it ?" said Mrs.Hurstwood.
"Yes, and he wants me to stroll over into the park with him," explained Jessica, a little flushed with running up the stairs.
"All right, my dear," said Mrs.Hurstwood.

"Don't be gone long." As the two went down the street, she glanced interestedly out of the window.

It was a most satisfactory spectacle indeed, most satisfactory.
In this atmosphere Hurstwood had moved for a number of years, not thinking deeply concerning it.

His was not the order of nature to trouble for something better, unless the better was immediately and sharply contrasted.