Hawkehurst.
She was somewhat inclined to yawn over the big book, which contained a
graphic account of recent discoveries of an antiquarian nature. Her mind
was not yet attuned to the comprehension of the sublimer elements in such
discoveries. She saw only a dry as dust record of futile gropings in
desert sand for the traces of perished empires. Her imagination was not
cultivated to that point whereat the gift which Mr. Lewes calls "insight"
becomes the daily companion, nay, indeed, the ever-haunting and
nightmare-bringing influence of the dreamer. For her sands were only
sands, the stones were only stones. No splendour of fallen palaces, no
glory and pride of perished kings, no clash and clamour of vanished
courts, arose from those barren sands, with all their pomp and
circumstance, conjured into being by half a word on a broken pillar, or a
date upon a Punic monument. Miss Halliday looked up with a sigh of
fatigue as her stepfather came into the room. It was not a room that he
particularly affected, and she was surprised when he seated himself in
the easy-chair opposite her, and poked the fire, as if with the intention
of remaining.
"You shouldn't read by firelight, my dear," he said; "it is most
destructive to the eyesight."
"I dare say my sight will last my time, papa," the young lady replied
carelessly; "but it's very kind of you to think of it, and I won't read
any more.
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