As far as Cheiron was concerned he was wiped off the list of beings who count.
Halcyone's delicate sense of obligation had been put at ease by her stepfather.

He had made over to her a few hundreds a year which he said had belonged to her mother--the simple creature was too ignorant of all business to be aware whether this was or was not the case.

She had grown to have a certain liking for James Anderton.

There was a hard, level-headed, shrewd honesty about him, keen to drive a bargain--even the one about her mother to which Priscilla had alluded and to which they had never made any further reference--but, when once he had gained his point, he was generous and kind-hearted.
He could not help it that he was not a gentleman, Halcyone thought, and he did his best for everybody according to his lights.
Her few hundreds a year seemed untold wealth to her who had never had even a few sixpences for pocket money! But there was always some instinctive dislike for the thing itself.

It remained to her a rather unpleasant medium for securing the necessities of life, though she was glad she now possessed enough not to be a burden upon her aunts, and could hand what was necessary for her trip over to the Professor.
They wanted to get into Italy as soon as it should be cool enough.
August saw them in an out-of-the-way village in Switzerland.
And the mountains caused Halcyone a yet deeper emotion than the sea had done.