'In
telepathy
?
Well
—
so
far
—
I
have
not
got
beyond
the
delicacy
and
perfection
of
Mr.
Denman
's
—
muscular
sensation
.
So
much
I
am
sure
of
!
'
'
Oh
,
but
your
scepticism
is
ridiculous
!
'
she
said
gaily
.
'
We
know
that
some
people
have
an
extraordinary
power
over
others
.
'
'
Yes
,
that
certainly
we
know
!
'
he
answered
,
his
voice
dropping
,
an
odd
strained
note
in
it
.
'
I
grant
you
that
.
'
She
trembled
deliciously
.
Her
eyelids
fell
.
They
stood
together
,
conscious
only
of
each
other
.
'
Now
,
'
said
Mr.
Denman
,
advancing
to
the
doorway
between
the
two
drawing-rooms
,
'
I
have
done
all
I
can
—
I
am
exhausted
.
But
let
me
beg
of
you
all
to
go
on
with
some
experiments
amongst
yourselves
.
Every
fresh
discovery
of
this
power
in
a
new
individual
is
a
gain
to
science
.
I
believe
about
one
in
ten
has
some
share
of
it
.
Mr.
Flaxman
and
I
will
arrange
everything
,
if
any
one
will
volunteer
?
'
The
audience
broke
up
into
groups
,
laughing
,
chatting
,
suggesting
this
and
that
.
Presently
Lady
Charlotte
's
loud
dictatorial
voice
made
itself
heard
,
as
she
stood
eyeglass
in
hand
looking
round
the
circle
of
her
guests
.
'
Somebody
must
venture
—
we
are
losing
time
.
'
Then
the
eyeglass
stopped
at
Rose
,
who
was
now
sitting
tall
and
radiant
on
the
sofa
,
her
blue
fan
across
her
white
knees
.
'
Miss
Leyburn
—
you
are
always
public-spirited
—
will
you
be
victimised
for
the
good
of
science
?
'
The
girl
got
up
with
a
smile
.
'
And
Mr.
Langham
—
will
you
see
what
you
can
do
with
Miss
Leyburn
?
Hugh
—
we
all
choose
her
task
,
do
n't
we
—
then
Mr.
Langham
wills
?
'
Flaxman
came
up
to
explain
.
Langham
had
turned
to
Rose
—
a
wild
fury
with
Lady
Charlotte
and
the
whole
affair
sweeping
through
him
.
But
there
was
no
time
to
demur
;
that
judicial
eye
was
on
them
;
the
large
figure
and
towering
cap
bent
towards
him
.
Refusal
was
impossible
.
'
Command
me
!
'
he
said
with
a
sudden
straightening
of
the
form
and
a
flush
on
the
pale
cheek
.
'
I
am
afraid
Miss
Leyburn
will
find
me
a
very
bad
partner
.
'
'
Well
,
now
then
!
'
said
Flaxman
;
'
Miss
Leyburn
,
will
you
please
go
down
into
the
library
while
we
settle
what
you
are
to
do
!
'
She
went
,
and
he
held
the
door
open
for
her
.
But
she
passed
out
unconscious
of
him
—
rosy
,
confused
,
her
eyes
bent
on
the
ground
.
'
Now
,
then
,
what
shall
Miss
Leyburn
do
?
'
asked
Lady
Charlotte
in
the
same
loud
emphatic
tone
.
'
If
I
might
suggest
something
quite
different
from
anything
that
has
been
yet
tried
,
'
said
Mr.
Flaxman
,
'
suppose
we
re
quire
Miss
Leyburn
to
kiss
the
hand
of
the
little
marble
statue
of
Hope
in
the
far
drawing-room
.
What
do
you
say
,
Langham
?
'
'
What
you
please
!
'
said
Langham
,
moving
up
to
him
.
A
glance
passed
between
the
two
men
.
In
Langham
's
there
was
a
hardly
sane
antagonism
and
resentment
,
in
Flaxman
's
an
excited
intelligence
.
'
Now
then
,
said
Flaxman
coolly
,
'
fix
your
mind
steadily
on
what
Miss
Leyburn
is
to
do
—
you
must
take
her
hand
—
but
except
in
thought
,
you
must
carefully
follow
and
not
lead
her
.
Shall
I
call
her
?
'
Langham
abruptly
assented
.
He
had
a
passionate
sense
of
being
watched
—
tricked
.
Why
were
he
and
she
to
be
made
a
spectacle
for
this
man
and
his
friends
!
A
mad
irrational
indignation
surged
through
him
.
Then
she
was
led
in
blindfolded
,
one
hand
stretched
out
feeling
the
air
in
front
of
her
.
The
circle
of
people
drew
back
.
Mr.
Flaxman
and
Mr.
Denman
prepared
,
note-book
in
hand
,
to
watch
the
experiment
.
Langham
moved
desperately
forward
.
But
the
instant
her
soft
trembling
hand
touched
his
,
as
though
by
enchantment
,
the
surrounding
scene
,
the
faces
,
the
lights
,
were
blotted
out
from
him
.
He
forgot
his
anger
,
he
forgot
everything
but
her
and
this
thing
she
was
to
do
.
He
had
her
in
his
grasp
—
he
was
the
man
,
the
master
—
and
what
enchanting
readiness
to
yield
in
the
swaying
pliant
form
!
In
the
distance
far
away
gleamed
the
statue
of
Hope
,
a
child
on
tiptoe
,
one
outstretched
arm
just
visible
from
where
he
stood
.
There
was
a
moment
's
silent
expectation
.
Every
eye
was
riveted
on
the
two
figures
—
on
the
dark
handsome
man
—
on
the
blindfolded
girl
.
At
last
Rose
began
to
move
gently
forward
.
It
was
a
strange
wavering
motion
.
The
breath
came
quickly
through
her
slightly
parted
lips
;
her
bright
colour
was
ebbing
.
She
was
conscious
of
nothing
but
the
grasp
in
which
her
hand
was
held
—
otherwise
her
mind
seemed
a
blank
.
Her
state
during
the
next
few
seconds
was
not
unlike
the
state
of
some
one
under
the
partial
influence
of
an
anæsthetic
;
a
benumbing
grip
was
laid
on
all
her
faculties
;
and
she
knew
nothing
of
how
she
moved
or
where
she
was
going
.
Suddenly
the
trance
cleared
away
.
It
might
have
lasted
half
an
hour
or
five
seconds
,
for
all
she
knew
.
But
she
was
standing
beside
a
small
marble
statue
in
the
farthest
drawing-room
,
and
her
lips
had
on
them
a
slight
sense
of
chill
,
as
though
they
had
just
been
laid
to
something
cold
.
She
pulled
off
the
handkerchief
from
her
eyes
.
Above
her
was
Langham
's
face
,
a
marvellous
glow
and
animation
in
every
line
of
it
.
'
Have
I
done
it
?
'
she
asked
in
a
tremulous
whisper
.
For
the
moment
her
self-control
was
gone
.
She
was
still
bewildered
.
He
nodded
,
smiling
.
'
I
am
so
glad
,
'
she
said
,
still
in
the
same
quick
whisper
,
gazing
at
him
.
There
was
the
most
adorable
abandon
in
her
whole
look
and
attitude
.
He
could
but
just
restrain
himself
from
taking
her
in
his
arms
,
and
for
one
bright
flashing
instant
each
saw
nothing
but
the
other
.
The
heavy
curtain
which
had
partially
hidden
the
door
of
the
little
old-fashioned
powder-closet
as
they
approached
it
,
and
through
which
they
had
swept
without
heeding
,
was
drawn
back
with
a
rattle
.
'
She
has
done
it
!
Hurrah
!
'
cried
Mr.
Flaxman
.
'
What
a
rush
that
last
was
,
Miss
Leyburn
!
You
left
us
all
behind
.
'
Rose
turned
to
him
,
still
dazed
,
drawing
her
hand
across
her
eyes
.
A
rush
?
She
had
known
nothing
about
it
!
Mr.
Flaxman
turned
and
walked
back
,
apparently
to
report
to
his
aunt
,
who
,
with
Lady
Helen
,
had
been
watching
the
experiment
from
the
main
drawing-room
.
His
face
was
a
curious
mixture
of
gravity
and
the
keenest
excitement
.
The
gravity
was
mostly
sharp
compunction
.
He
had
satisfied
a
passionate
curiosity
,
but
in
the
doing
of
it
he
had
outraged
certain
instincts
of
breeding
and
refinement
which
were
now
revenging
themselves
.
'
Did
she
do
it
exactly
?
'
said
Lady
Helen
eagerly
.
'
Exactly
,
'
he
said
,
standing
still
.
Lady
Charlotte
looked
at
him
significantly
.
But
he
would
not
see
her
look
.
'
Lady
Charlotte
,
where
is
my
sister
?
'
said
Rose
,
coming
up
from
the
back
room
,
looking
now
nearly
as
white
as
her
dress
.
It
appeared
that
Agnes
had
just
been
carried
off
by
a
lady
who
lived
on
Campden
Hill
close
to
the
Leyburns
,
and
who
had
been
obliged
to
go
at
the
beginning
of
the
last
experiment
.
Agnes
,
torn
between
her
interest
in
what
was
going
on
and
her
desire
to
get
back
to
her
mother
,
had
at
last
hurriedly
accepted
this
Mrs.
Sherwood
's
offer
of
a
seat
in
her
carriage
,
imagining
that
her
sister
would
want
to
stay
a
good
deal
later
,
and
relying
on
Lady
Charlotte
's
promise
that
she
should
be
safely
put
into
a
hansom
.
'
I
must
go
,
'
said
Rose
,
putting
her
hand
to
her
head
.
'
How
tiring
this
is
!
How
long
did
it
take
,
Mr.
Flaxman
?
'
'
Exactly
three
minutes
,
'
he
said
,
his
gaze
fixed
upon
her
with
an
expression
that
only
Lady
Helen
noticed
.
'
So
little
!
Good-night
,
Lady
Charlotte
!
'
and
giving
her
hand
first
to
her
hostess
then
to
Mr.
Flaxman
's
bewildered
sister
,
she
moved
away
into
the
crowd
.
'
Hugh
,
of
course
you
are
going
down
with
her
?
'
exclaimed
Lady
Charlotte
under
her
breath
.
'
You
must
.
I
promised
to
see
her
safely
off
the
premises
.
'
He
stood
immovable
.
Lady
Helen
with
a
reproachful
look
made
a
step
forward
,
but
he
caught
her
arm
.
'
Do
n't
spoil
sport
,
'
he
said
,
in
a
tone
which
,
amid
the
hum
of
discussion
caused
by
the
experiment
,
was
heard
only
by
his
aunt
and
sister
.
They
looked
at
him
—
the
one
amazed
,
the
other
grimly
observant
—
and
caught
a
slight
significant
motion
of
the
head
towards
Langham
's
distant
figure
.
Langham
came
up
and
made
his
farewells
.
As
he
turned
his
back
,
Lady
Helen
's
large
astonished
eyes
followed
him
to
the
door
.
'
Oh
,
Hugh
!
'
was
all
she
could
say
as
they
came
back
to
her
brother
.
'
Never
mind
,
Nellie
,
'
he
whispered
,
touched
by
the
bewildered
sympathy
of
her
look
;
'
I
will
tell
you
all
about
it
to-morrow
.
I
have
not
been
behaving
well
,
and
am
not
particularly
pleased
with
myself
.
But
for
her
it
is
all
right
.
Poor
,
pretty
little
thing
!
'
And
he
walked
away
into
the
thick
of
the
conversation
.
Downstairs
the
hall
was
already
full
of
people
waiting
for
their
carriages
.
Langham
,
hurrying
down
,
saw
Rose
coming
out
of
the
cloak-room
,
muffled
up
in
brown
furs
,
a
pale
child-like
fatigue
in
her
looks
which
set
his
heart
beating
faster
than
ever
.
'
Miss
Leyburn
,
how
are
you
going
home
?
'
'
Will
you
ask
for
a
hansom
,
please
?
'
'
Take
my
arm
,
'
he
said
,
and
she
clung
to
him
through
the
crush
till
they
reached
the
door
.
Nothing
but
private
carriages
were
in
sight
.
The
street
seemed
blocked
,
a
noisy
tumult
of
horses
and
footmen
and
shouting
men
with
lanterns
.
Which
of
them
suggested
,
'
Shall
we
walk
a
few
steps
?
'
At
any
rate
,
here
they
were
,
out
in
the
wind
and
the
darkness
,
every
step
carrying
them
farther
away
from
that
moving
patch
of
noise
and
light
behind
.
'
We
shall
find
a
cab
at
once
in
Park
Lane
,
'
he
said
.
'
Are
you
warm
?
'
'
Perfectly
.
'
A
fur
hood
fitted
round
her
face
,
to
which
the
colour
was
coming
back
.
She
held
her
cloak
tightly
round
her
,
and
her
little
feet
,
fairly
well
shod
,
slipped
in
and
out
on
the
dry
frosty
pavement
.
Suddenly
they
passed
a
huge
unfinished
house
,
the
building
of
which
was
being
pushed
on
by
electric
light
.
The
great
walls
,
ivory
white
in
the
glare
,
rose
into
the
purply-blue
of
the
starry
February
sky
,
and
as
they
passed
within
the
power
of
the
lamps
,
each
saw
with
noonday
distinctness
every
line
and
feature
in
the
other
's
face
.
They
swept
on
—
the
night
,
with
its
alternations
of
flame
and
shadow
,
an
unreal
and
enchanted
world
about
them
.
A
space
of
darkness
succeeded
the
space
of
daylight
.
Behind
them
in
the
distance
was
the
sound
of
hammers
and
workmen
's
voices
;
before
them
the
dim
trees
of
the
park
.
Not
a
human
being
was
in
sight
.
London
seemed
to
exist
to
be
the
mere
dark
friendly
shelter
of
this
wandering
of
theirs
.
A
blast
of
wind
blew
her
cloak
out
of
her
grasp
.
But
before
she
could
close
it
again
,
an
arm
was
flung
around
her
.
She
could
not
speak
or
move
,
she
stood
passive
,
conscious
only
of
the
strangeness
of
the
wintry
wind
,
and
of
this
warm
breast
against
which
her
cheek
was
laid
.
'
Oh
,
stay
there
!
'
a
voice
said
close
to
her
ear
.
'
Rest
there
—
pale
tired
child
—
pale
tired
little
child
!
'
That
moment
seemed
to
last
an
eternity
.
He
held
her
close
,
cherishing
and
protecting
her
from
the
cold
—
not
kissing
her
—
till
at
length
she
looked
up
with
bright
eyes
,
shining
through
happy
tears
.
'
Are
you
sure
at
last
?
'
she
said
,
strangely
enough
,
speaking
out
of
the
far
depths
of
her
own
thought
to
his
.
'
Sure
!
'
he
said
,
his
expression
changing
.
'
What
can
I
be
sure
of
?
I
am
sure
that
I
am
not
worth
your
loving
,
sure
that
I
am
poor
,
insignificant
,
obscure
,
that
if
you
give
yourself
to
me
you
will
be
miserably
throwing
yourself
away
!
'
She
looked
at
him
,
still
smiling
,
a
white
sorceress
weaving
spells
about
him
in
the
darkness
.
He
drew
her
lightly
gloved
hand
through
his
arm
,
holding
the
fragile
fingers
close
in
his
,
and
they
moved
on
.
'
Do
you
know
,
'
he
repeated
—
a
tone
of
intense
melancholy
replacing
the
tone
of
passion
,
—
'
how
little
I
have
to
give
you
?
'
'
I
know
,
'
she
answered
,
her
face
turned
shyly
away
from
him
,
her
words
coming
from
under
the
fur
hood
which
had
fallen
forward
a
little
.
'
I
know
that
—
that
—
you
are
not
rich
,
that
you
distrust
yourself
,
that
—
—
'
'
Oh
,
hush
,
'
he
said
,
and
his
voice
was
full
of
pain
.
'
You
know
so
little
;
let
me
paint
myself
.
I
have
lived
alone
,
for
myself
,
in
myself
,
till
sometimes
there
seems
to
be
hardly
anything
left
in
me
to
love
or
be
loved
;
nothing
but
a
brain
,
a
machine
that
exists
only
for
certain
selfish
ends
.
My
habits
are
the
tyrants
of
years
;
and
at
Murewell
,
though
I
loved
you
there
,
they
were
strong
enough
to
carry
me
away
from
you
.
There
is
something
paralysing
in
me
,
which
is
always
forbidding
me
to
feel
,
to
will
.
Sometimes
I
think
it
is
an
actual
physical
disability
—
the
horror
that
is
in
me
of
change
,
of
movement
,
of
effort
.
Can
you
bear
with
me
?
Can
you
be
poor
?
Can
you
live
a
life
of
monotony
?
Oh
,
impossible
!
'
he
broke
out
,
almost
putting
her
hand
away
from
him
.
'
You
,
who
ought
to
be
a
queen
of
this
world
,
for
whom
everything
bright
and
brilliant
is
waiting
if
you
will
but
stretch
out
your
hand
to
it
.
It
is
a
crime
—
an
infamy
—
that
I
should
be
speaking
to
you
like
this
!
'
Rose
raised
her
head
.
A
passing
light
shone
upon
her
.
She
was
trembling
and
pale
again
,
but
her
eyes
were
unchanged
.
'
No
,
no
,
'
she
said
wistfully
;
'
not
if
you
love
me
.
'
He
hung
above
her
,
an
agony
of
feeling
in
the
fine
rigid
face
,
of
which
the
beautiful
features
and
surfaces
were
already
worn
and
blanched
by
the
life
of
thought
.
What
possessed
him
was
not
so
much
distrust
of
circumstance
as
doubt
,
hideous
doubt
,
of
himself
,
of
this
very
passion
beating
within
him
.
She
saw
nothing
,
meanwhile
,
but
the
self-depreciation
which
she
knew
so
well
in
him
,
and
against
which
her
love
in
its
rash
ignorance
and
generosity
cried
out
.
'
You
will
not
say
you
love
me
!
'
she
cried
,
with
hurrying
breath
.
'
But
I
know
—
I
know
—
you
do
.
'
Then
her
courage
sinking
,
ashamed
,
blushing
,
once
more
turning
away
from
him
—
'
At
least
,
if
you
do
n't
,
I
am
very
—
very
—
unhappy
.
'
The
soft
words
flew
through
his
blood
.
For
an
instant
he
felt
himself
saved
,
like
Faust
,
—
saved
by
the
surpassing
moral
beauty
of
one
moment
's
impression
.
That
she
should
need
him
,
that
his
life
should
matter
to
hers
!
They
were
passing
the
garden
wall
of
a
great
house
.
In
the
deepest
shadow
of
it
,
he
stooped
suddenly
and
kissed
her
.
CHAPTER
XXXVI
Langham
parted
with
Rose
at
the
corner
of
Martin
Street
.
She
would
not
let
him
take
her
any
farther
.
'
I
will
say
nothing
,
'
she
whispered
to
him
,
as
he
put
her
into
a
passing
hansom
,
wrapping
her
cloak
warmly
round
her
,
'
till
I
see
you
again
.
To-morrow
?
'
'
To-morrow
morning
,
'
he
said
,
waving
his
hand
to
her
,
and
in
another
instant
he
was
facing
the
north
wind
alone
.
He
walked
on
fast
towards
Beaumont
Street
,
but
by
the
time
he
reached
his
destination
midnight
had
struck
.
He
made
his
way
into
his
room
where
the
fire
was
still
smouldering
,
and
striking
a
light
,
sank
into
his
large
reading
chair
,
beside
which
the
volumes
used
in
the
afternoon
lay
littered
on
the
floor
.
He
was
suddenly
penetrated
with
the
cold
of
the
night
,
and
hung
shivering
over
the
few
embers
which
still
glowed
.
What
had
happened
to
him
?
In
this
room
,
in
this
chair
,
the
self-forgetting
excitement
of
that
walk
,
scarcely
half
an
hour
old
,
seems
to
him
already
long
passed
—
incredible
almost
.
And
yet
the
brain
was
still
full
of
images
,
the
mind
still
full
of
a
hundred
new
impressions
.
That
fair
head
against
his
breast
,
those
soft
confiding
words
,
those
yielding
lips
.
Ah
!
it
is
the
poor
,
silent
,
insignificant
student
that
has
conquered
.
It
is
he
,
not
the
successful
man
of
the
world
,
that
has
held
that
young
and
beautiful
girl
in
his
arms
,
and
heard
from
her
the
sweetest
and
humblest
confession
of
love
.
Fate
can
have
neither
wit
nor
conscience
to
have
ordained
it
so
;
but
fate
has
so
ordained
it
.
Langham
takes
note
of
his
victory
,
takes
dismal
note
also
that
the
satisfaction
of
it
has
already
half
departed
.
So
the
great
moment
has
come
and
gone
!
The
one
supreme
experience
which
life
and
his
own
will
had
so
far
rigidly
denied
him
,
is
his
.
He
has
felt
the
torturing
thrill
of
passion
—
he
has
evoked
such
an
answer
as
all
men
might
envy
him
,
—
and
fresh
from
Rose
's
kiss
,
from
Rose
's
beauty
,
the
strange
maimed
soul
falls
to
a
pitiless
analysis
of
his
passion
,
her
response
!
One
moment
he
is
at
her
feet
in
a
voiceless
trance
of
gratitude
and
tenderness
;
the
next
—
is
nothing
what
it
promises
to
be
?
—
and
has
the
boon
already
,
now
that
he
has
it
in
his
grasp
,
lost
some
of
its
beauty
,
just
as
the
sea-shell
drawn
out
of
the
water
,
where
its
lovely
iridescence
tempted
eye
and
hand
,
loses
half
its
fairy
charm
?
The
night
wore
on
.
Outside
an
occasional
cab
or
cart
would
rattle
over
the
stones
of
the
street
,
an
occasional
voice
or
step
would
penetrate
the
thin
walls
of
the
house
,
bringing
a
shock
of
sound
into
that
silent
upper
room
.
Nothing
caught
Langham
's
ear
.
He
was
absorbed
in
the
dialogue
which
was
to
decide
his
life
.
Opposite
to
him
,
as
it
seemed
,
there
sat
a
spectral
reproduction
of
himself
,
his
true
self
,
with
whom
he
held
a
long
and
ghastly
argument
.
'
But
I
love
her
!
—
I
love
her
!
A
little
courage
—
a
little
effort
—
and
I
too
can
achieve
what
other
men
achieve
.
I
have
gifts
,
great
gifts
.
Mere
contact
with
her
,
the
mere
necessities
of
the
situation
,
will
drive
me
back
to
life
,
teach
me
how
to
live
normally
,
like
other
men
.
I
have
not
forced
her
love
—
it
has
been
a
free
gift
.
Who
can
blame
me
if
I
take
it
,
if
I
cling
to
it
,
as
the
man
freezing
in
a
crevasse
clutches
the
rope
thrown
to
him
?
'
To
which
the
pale
spectre
self
said
scornfully
—
'
Courage
and
effort
may
as
well
be
dropped
out
of
your
vocabulary
.
They
are
words
that
you
have
no
use
for
.
Replace
them
by
two
others
—
habit
and
character
.
Slave
as
you
are
of
habit
,
of
the
character
you
have
woven
for
yourself
out
of
years
of
deliberate
living
—
what
wild
unreason
to
imagine
that
love
can
unmake
,
can
recreate
!
What
you
are
,
you
are
to
all
eternity
.
Bear
your
own
burden
,
but
for
God
's
sake
beguile
no
other
human
creature
into
trusting
you
with
theirs
!
'
'
But
she
loves
me
!
Impossible
that
I
should
crush
and
tear
so
kind
,
so
warm
a
heart
!
Poor
child
—
poor
child
!
I
have
played
on
her
pity
.
I
have
won
all
she
had
to
give
.
And
now
to
throw
her
gift
back
in
her
face
—
oh
monstrous
—
oh
inhuman
!
'
and
the
cold
drops
stood
on
his
forehead
.
But
the
other
self
was
inexorable
.
'
You
have
acted
as
you
were
bound
to
act
—
as
any
man
may
be
expected
to
act
in
whom
will
and
manhood
and
true
human
kindness
are
dying
out
,
poisoned
by
despair
and
the
tyranny
of
the
critical
habit
.
But
at
least
do
not
add
another
crime
to
the
first
.
What
in
God
's
name
have
you
to
offer
a
creature
of
such
claims
,
such
ambitions
?
You
are
poor
—
you
must
go
back
to
Oxford
—
you
must
take
up
the
work
your
soul
loathes
—
grow
more
soured
,
more
embittered
—
maintain
a
useless
degrading
struggle
,
till
her
youth
is
done
,
her
beauty
wasted
,
and
till
you
yourself
have
lost
every
shred
of
decency
and
dignity
,
even
that
decorous
outward
life
in
which
you
can
still
wrap
yourself
from
the
world
!
Think
of
the
little
house
—
the
children
—
the
money
difficulties
—
she
,
spiritually
starved
,
every
illusion
gone
,
—
you
incapable
soon
of
love
,
incapable
even
of
pity
,
conscious
only
of
a
dull
rage
with
her
,
yourself
,
the
world
!
Bow
the
neck
—
submit
—
refuse
that
long
agony
for
yourself
and
her
,
while
there
is
still
time
.
Kismet
—
Kismet
!
'
And
spread
out
before
Langham
's
shrinking
soul
there
lay
a
whole
dismal
Hogarthian
series
,
image
leading
to
image
,
calamity
to
calamity
,
till
in
the
last
scene
of
all
the
maddened
inward
sight
perceived
two
figures
,
two
gray
and
withered
figures
,
far
apart
,
gazing
at
each
other
with
cold
and
sunken
eyes
across
dark
rivers
of
sordid
irremediable
regret
.
The
hours
passed
away
,
and
in
the
end
,
the
spectre
self
,
a
cold
and
bloodless
conqueror
,
slipped
back
into
the
soul
which
remorse
and
terror
,
love
and
pity
,
a
last
impulse
of
hope
,
a
last
stirring
of
manhood
,
had
been
alike
powerless
to
save
.
The
February
dawn
was
just
beginning
when
he
dragged
himself
to
a
table
and
wrote
.
Then
for
hours
afterwards
he
sat
sunk
in
his
chair
,
the
stupor
of
fatigue
broken
every
now
and
then
by
a
flash
of
curious
introspection
.
It
was
a
base
thing
which
he
had
done
—
it
was
also
a
strange
thing
psychologically
;
and
at
intervals
he
tried
to
understand
it
,
to
track
it
to
its
causes
.
At
nine
o'clock
he
crept
out
into
the
frosty
daylight
,
found
a
commissionaire
who
was
accustomed
to
do
errands
for
him
,
and
sent
him
with
a
letter
to
Lerwick
Gardens
.
On
his
way
back
he
passed
a
gunsmith
's
,
and
stood
looking
fascinated
at
the
shining
barrels
.
Then
he
moved
away
,
shaking
his
head
,
his
eyes
gleaming
as
though
the
spectacle
of
himself
had
long
ago
passed
the
bounds
of
tragedy
—
become
farcical
even
.
'
I
should
only
stand
a
month
—
arguing
—
with
my
finger
on
the
trigger
.
'
In
the
little
hall
his
landlady
met
him
,
gave
a
start
at
the
sight
of
him
,
and
asked
him
if
he
ailed
and
if
she
could
do
anything
for
him
.
He
gave
her
a
sharp
answer
and
went
upstairs
,
where
she
heard
him
dragging
books
and
boxes
about
as
though
he
were
packing
.
A
little
later
Rose
was
standing
at
the
dining-room
window
of
No.
27
,
looking
on
to
a
few
trees
bedecked
with
rime
which
stood
outside
.
The
ground
and
roofs
were
white
,
a
promise
of
sun
was
struggling
through
the
fog
.
So
far
everything
in
these
unfrequented
Campden
Hill
roads
was
clean
,
crisp
,
enlivening
,
and
the
sparkle
in
Rose
's
mood
answered
to
that
of
Nature
.
Breakfast
had
just
been
cleared
away
.
Agnes
was
upstairs
with
Mrs.
Leyburn
.
Catherine
,
who
was
staying
in
the
house
for
a
day
or
two
,
was
in
a
chair
by
the
fire
reading
some
letters
forwarded
to
her
from
Bedford
Square
.
He
would
appear
some
time
in
the
morning
,
she
supposed
.
With
an
expression
half
rueful
,
half
amused
,
she
fell
to
imagining
his
interview
with
Catherine
,
with
her
mother
.
Poor
Catherine
!
Rose
feels
herself
happy
enough
to
allow
herself
a
good
honest
pang
of
remorse
for
much
of
her
behaviour
to
Catherine
this
winter
;
how
thorny
she
has
been
,
how
unkind
often
,
to
this
sad
changed
sister
.
And
now
this
will
be
a
fresh
blow
!
'
But
afterwards
,
when
she
has
got
over
it
,
—
when
she
knows
that
it
makes
me
happy
,
—
that
nothing
else
would
make
me
happy
,
—
then
she
will
be
reconciled
,
and
she
and
I
perhaps
will
make
friends
,
all
over
again
,
from
the
beginning
.
I
wo
n't
be
angry
or
hard
over
it
—
poor
Cathie
!
'
And
with
regard
to
Mr.
Flaxman
.
As
she
stands
there
waiting
idly
for
what
destiny
may
send
her
,
she
puts
herself
through
a
little
light
catechism
about
this
other
friend
of
hers
.
He
had
behaved
somewhat
oddly
towards
her
of
late
;
she
begins
now
to
remember
that
her
exit
from
Lady
Charlotte
's
house
the
night
before
had
been
a
very
different
matter
from
the
royally
attended
leave-takings
,
presided
over
by
Mr.
Flaxman
,
which
generally
befell
her
there
.
Had
he
understood
?
With
a
little
toss
of
her
head
she
said
to
herself
that
she
did
not
care
if
it
was
so
.
'
I
have
never
encouraged
Mr.
Flaxman
to
think
I
was
going
to
marry
him
.
'
But
of
course
Mr.
Flaxman
will
consider
she
has
done
badly
for
herself
.
So
will
Lady
Charlotte
and
all
her
outer
world
.
They
will
say
she
is
dismally
throwing
herself
away
,
and
her
mother
,
no
doubt
influenced
by
the
clamour
,
will
take
up
very
much
the
same
line
.
What
matter
!
The
girl
's
spirit
seemed
to
rise
against
all
the
world
.
There
was
a
sort
of
romantic
exaltation
in
her
sacrifice
of
herself
,
a
jubilant
looking
forward
to
remonstrance
,
a
wilful
determination
to
overcome
it
.
That
she
was
about
to
do
the
last
thing
she
could
have
been
expected
to
do
,
gave
her
pleasure
.
Almost
all
artistic
faculty
goes
with
a
love
of
surprise
and
caprice
in
life
.
Rose
had
her
full
share
of
the
artistic
love
for
the
impossible
and
the
difficult
.
Besides
—
success
!
To
make
a
man
hope
and
love
,
and
live
again
—
that
shall
be
her
success
.
She
leaned
against
the
window
,
her
eyes
filling
,
her
heart
very
soft
.
Suddenly
she
saw
a
commissionaire
coming
up
the
little
flagged
passage
to
the
door
.
He
gave
in
a
note
,
and
immediately
afterwards
the
dining-room
door
opened
.
'
A
letter
for
you
,
Miss
,
'
said
the
maid
.
Rose
took
it
—
glanced
at
the
handwriting
.
A
bright
flush
—
a
surreptitious
glance
at
Catherine
who
sat
absorbed
in
a
wandering
letter
from
Mrs.
Darcy
.
Then
the
girl
carried
her
prize
to
the
window
and
opened
it
.
Catherine
read
on
,
gathering
up
the
Murewell
names
and
details
as
some
famished
gleaner
might
gather
up
the
scattered
ears
on
a
plundered
field
.
At
last
something
in
the
silence
of
the
room
,
and
of
the
other
inmate
in
it
,
struck
her
.
'
Rose
,
'
she
said
,
looking
up
,
'
was
that
some
one
brought
you
a
note
?
'
The
girl
turned
with
a
start
—
a
letter
fell
to
the
ground
.
She
made
a
faint
ineffectual
effort
to
pick
it
up
,
and
sank
into
a
chair
.
'
Rose
—
darling
!
'
cried
Catherine
,
springing
up
,
'
are
you
ill
?
'
Rose
looked
at
her
with
a
perfectly
colourless
fixed
face
,
made
a
feeble
negative
sign
,
and
then
laying
her
arms
on
the
breakfast-table
in
front
of
her
,
let
her
head
fall
upon
them
.
Catherine
stood
over
her
aghast
.
'
My
darling
—
what
is
it
?
Come
and
lie
down
—
take
this
water
.
'
She
put
some
close
to
her
sister
's
hand
,
but
Rose
pushed
it
away
.
'
Do
n't
talk
to
me
,
'
she
said
with
difficulty
.
Catherine
knelt
beside
her
in
helpless
pain
and
perplexity
,
her
cheek
resting
against
her
sister
's
shoulder
as
a
mute
sign
of
sympathy
.
What
could
be
the
matter
?
Presently
her
gaze
travelled
from
Rose
to
the
letter
on
the
floor
.
It
lay
with
the
address
uppermost
,
and
she
at
once
recognised
Langham
's
handwriting
.
But
before
she
could
combine
any
rational
ideas
with
this
quick
perception
,
Rose
had
partially
mastered
herself
.
She
raised
her
head
slowly
and
grasped
her
sister
's
arm
.
'
I
was
startled
,
'
she
said
,
a
forced
smile
on
her
white
lips
.
'
Last
night
Mr.
Langham
asked
me
to
marry
him
—
I
expected
him
here
this
morning
to
consult
with
mamma
and
you
.
That
letter
is
to
inform
me
that
—
he
made
a
mistake
—
and
he
is
very
sorry
!
So
am
I
!
It
is
so
—
so
—
bewildering
!
'
She
got
up
restlessly
and
went
to
the
fire
as
though
shivering
with
cold
.
Catherine
thought
she
hardly
knew
what
she
was
saying
.
The
elder
sister
followed
her
,
and
throwing
an
arm
round
her
,
pressed
the
slim
irresponsive
figure
close
.
Her
eyes
were
bright
with
anger
,
her
lips
quivering
.
'
That
he
should
dare
!
'
she
cried
.
'
Rose
—
my
poor
little
Rose
.
'
'
Do
n't
blame
him
!
'
said
Rose
,
crouching
down
before
the
fire
,
while
Catherine
fell
into
the
armchair
again
.
'
It
does
n't
seem
to
count
,
from
you
—
you
have
always
been
so
ready
to
blame
him
!
'
Her
brow
contracted
;
she
looked
frowning
into
the
fire
,
her
still
colourless
mouth
working
painfully
.
Catherine
was
cut
to
the
heart
.
'
Oh
,
Rose
!
'
she
said
,
holding
out
her
hands
,
'
I
will
blame
no
one
,
dear
.
I
seem
hard
—
but
I
love
you
so
.
Oh
,
tell
me
—
you
would
have
told
me
everything
once
!
'
There
was
the
most
painful
yearning
in
her
tone
.
Rose
lifted
a
listless
right
hand
and
put
it
into
her
sister
's
outstretched
palms
.
But
she
made
no
answer
,
till
suddenly
,
with
a
smothered
cry
,
she
fell
towards
Catherine
.
'
Catherine
!
I
cannot
bear
it
.
I
said
I
loved
him
—
he
kissed
me
—
I
could
kill
myself
and
him
.
'
Catherine
never
forgot
the
mingled
tragedy
and
domesticity
of
the
hour
that
followed
—
the
little
familiar
morning
sounds
in
and
about
the
house
,
maids
running
up
and
down
stairs
,
tradesmen
calling
,
bells
ringing
,
—
and
here
,
at
her
feet
,
a
spectacle
of
moral
and
mental
struggle
which
she
only
half
understood
,
but
which
wrung
her
inmost
heart
.
Two
strains
of
feeling
seemed
to
be
present
in
Rose
—
a
sense
of
shock
,
of
wounded
pride
,
of
intolerable
humiliation
,
and
a
strange
intervening
passion
of
pity
,
not
for
herself
but
for
Langham
,
which
seemed
to
have
been
stirred
in
her
by
his
letter
.
But
though
the
elder
questioned
,
and
the
younger
seemed
to
answer
,
Catherine
could
hardly
piece
the
story
together
,
nor
could
she
find
the
answer
to
the
question
filling
her
own
indignant
heart
,
'
Does
she
love
him
?
'
At
last
Rose
got
up
from
her
crouching
position
by
the
fire
and
stood
,
a
white
ghost
of
herself
,
pushing
back
the
bright
encroaching
hair
from
eyes
that
were
dry
and
feverish
.
'
If
I
could
only
be
angry
—
downright
angry
,
'
she
said
,
more
to
herself
than
Catherine
,
'
it
would
do
one
good
.
'
'
Give
others
leave
to
be
angry
for
you
!
'
cried
Catherine
.
'
Do
n't
!
'
said
Rose
,
almost
fiercely
,
drawing
herself
away
.
'
You
do
n't
know
.
It
is
a
fate
.
Why
did
we
ever
meet
?
You
may
read
his
letter
;
you
must
—
you
misjudge
him
—
you
always
have
.
No
,
no
'
—
and
she
nervously
crushed
the
letter
in
her
hand
—
'
not
yet
.
But
you
shall
read
it
some
time
—
you
and
Robert
too
.
Married
people
always
tell
one
another
.
It
is
due
to
him
,
perhaps
due
to
me
too
,
'
and
a
hot
flush
transfigured
her
paleness
for
an
instant
.
'
Oh
,
my
head
!
Why
does
one
's
mind
affect
one
's
body
like
this
?
It
shall
not
—
it
is
humiliating
!
"
Miss
Leyburn
has
been
jilted
and
cannot
see
visitors
,
"
—
that
is
the
kind
of
thing
.
Catherine
,
when
you
have
finished
that
document
,
will
you
kindly
come
and
hear
me
practise
my
last
Raff
—
I
am
going
.
Good-bye
.
'
She
moved
to
the
door
,
but
Catherine
had
only
just
time
to
catch
her
,
or
she
would
have
fallen
over
a
chair
from
sudden
giddiness
.
'
Miserable
!
'
she
said
,
dashing
a
tear
from
her
eyes
,
'
I
must
go
and
lie
down
then
in
the
proper
missish
fashion
.
Mind
,
on
your
peril
,
Catherine
,
not
a
word
to
any
one
but
Robert
.
I
shall
tell
Agnes
.
And
Robert
is
not
to
speak
to
me
!
No
,
do
n't
come
—
I
will
go
alone
.
'
And
warning
her
sister
back
,
she
groped
her
way
upstairs
.
Inside
her
room
,
when
she
had
locked
the
door
,
she
stood
a
moment
upright
with
the
letter
in
her
hand
,
—
the
blotted
incoherent
scrawl
,
where
Langham
had
for
once
forgotten
to
be
literary
,
where
every
pitiable
half-finished
sentence
pleaded
with
her
—
even
in
the
first
smart
of
her
wrong
—
for
pardon
,
for
compassion
,
as
towards
something
maimed
and
paralysed
from
birth
,
unworthy
even
of
her
contempt
.
Then
the
tears
began
to
rain
over
her
cheeks
.
'
I
was
not
good
enough
—
I
was
not
good
enough
—
God
would
not
let
me
!
'
And
she
fell
on
her
knees
beside
the
bed
,
the
little
bit
of
paper
crushed
in
her
hands
against
her
lips
.
Not
good
enough
for
what
?
To
save
?
How
lightly
she
had
dreamed
of
healing
,
redeeming
,
changing
!
And
the
task
is
refused
her
.
It
is
not
so
much
the
cry
of
personal
desire
that
shakes
her
as
she
kneels
and
weeps
,
nor
is
it
mere
wounded
woman
's
pride
.
It
is
a
strange
stern
sense
of
law
.
Had
she
been
other
than
she
is
—
more
loving
,
less
self-absorbed
,
loftier
in
motive
—
he
could
not
have
loved
her
so
,
have
left
her
so
.
Deep
undeveloped
forces
of
character
stir
within
her
.
She
feels
herself
judged
,
—
and
with
a
righteous
judgment
—
issuing
inexorably
from
the
facts
of
life
and
circumstance
.
Meanwhile
Catherine
was
shut
up
downstairs
with
Robert
,
who
had
come
over
early
to
see
how
the
household
fared
.
Robert
listened
to
the
whole
luckless
story
with
astonishment
and
dismay
.
This
particular
possibility
of
mischief
had
gone
out
of
his
mind
for
some
time
.
He
had
been
busy
in
his
East
End
work
.
Catherine
had
been
silent
.
Over
how
many
matters
they
would
once
have
discussed
with
open
heart
was
she
silent
now
?
'
I
ought
to
have
been
warned
,
'
he
said
with
quick
decision
,
'
if
you
knew
this
was
going
on
.
I
am
the
only
man
among
you
,
and
I
understand
Langham
better
than
the
rest
of
you
.
I
might
have
looked
after
the
poor
child
a
little
.
'
Catherine
accepted
the
reproach
mutely
as
one
little
smart
the
more
.
However
,
what
had
she
known
?
She
had
seen
nothing
unusual
of
late
,
nothing
to
make
her
think
a
crisis
was
approaching
.
Nay
,
she
had
flattered
herself
that
Mr.
Flaxman
,
whom
she
liked
,
was
gaining
ground
.
Meanwhile
Robert
stood
pondering
anxiously
what
could
be
done
.
Could
anything
be
done
?
'
I
must
go
and
see
him
,
'
he
said
presently
.
'
Yes
,
dearest
,
I
must
.
Impossible
the
thing
should
be
left
so
!
I
am
his
old
friend
,
—
almost
her
guardian
.
You
say
she
is
in
great
trouble
—
why
,
it
may
shadow
her
whole
life
!
No
—
he
must
explain
things
to
us
—
he
is
bound
to
—
he
shall
.
It
may
be
something
comparatively
trivial
in
the
way
after
all
—
money
or
prospects
or
something
of
the
sort
.
You
have
not
seen
the
letter
,
you
say
?
It
is
the
last
marriage
in
the
world
one
could
have
desired
for
her
—
but
if
she
loves
him
,
Catherine
,
if
she
loves
him
—
—
'
He
turned
to
her
—
appealing
,
remonstrating
.
Catherine
stood
pale
and
rigid
.
Incredible
that
he
should
think
it
right
to
intermeddle
—
to
take
the
smallest
step
towards
reversing
so
plain
a
declaration
of
God
's
will
!
She
could
not
sympathise
—
she
would
not
consent
.
Robert
watched
her
in
painful
indecision
.
He
knew
that
she
thought
him
indifferent
to
her
true
reason
for
finding
some
comfort
even
in
her
sister
's
trouble
—
that
he
seemed
to
her
mindful
only
of
the
passing
human
misery
,
indifferent
to
the
eternal
risk
.
They
stood
sadly
looking
at
one
another
.
Then
he
snatched
up
his
hat
.
'
I
must
go
,
'
he
said
in
a
low
voice
;
'
it
is
right
.
'
And
he
went
—
stepping
,
however
,
with
the
best
intentions
in
the
world
,
into
a
blunder
.
Catherine
sat
painfully
struggling
with
herself
after
he
had
left
her
.
Then
some
one
came
into
the
room
—
some
one
with
pale
looks
and
flashing
eyes
.
It
was
Agnes
.
'
She
just
let
me
in
to
tell
me
,
and
put
me
out
again
,
'
said
the
girl
—
her
whole
,
even
,
cheerful
self
one
flame
of
scorn
and
wrath
.
'
What
are
such
creatures
made
for
,
Catherine
—
why
do
they
exist
?
'
Meanwhile
,
Robert
had
trudged
off
through
the
frosty
morning
streets
to
Langham
's
lodgings
.
His
mood
was
very
hot
by
the
time
he
reached
his
destination
,
and
he
climbed
the
staircase
to
Langham
's
room
in
some
excitement
.
When
he
tried
to
open
the
door
after
the
answer
to
his
knock
bidding
him
enter
,
he
found
something
barring
the
way
.
'
Wait
a
little
,
'
said
the
voice
inside
,
'
I
will
move
the
case
.
'
With
difficulty
the
obstacle
was
removed
and
the
door
opened
.
Seeing
his
visitor
,
Langham
stood
for
a
moment
in
sombre
astonishment
.
The
room
was
littered
with
books
and
packing-cases
with
which
he
had
been
busy
.
'
Come
in
,
'
he
said
,
not
offering
to
shake
hands
.
Robert
shut
the
door
,
and
,
picking
his
way
among
the
books
,
stood
leaning
on
the
back
of
the
chair
Langham
pointed
out
to
him
.
Langham
paused
opposite
to
him
,
his
waving
jet-black
hair
falling
forward
over
the
marble
pale
face
which
had
been
Robert
's
young
ideal
of
manly
beauty
.
The
two
men
were
only
six
years
distant
in
age
,
but
so
strong
is
old
association
that
Robert
's
feeling
towards
his
friend
had
always
remained
in
many
respects
the
feeling
of
the
undergraduate
towards
the
don
.
His
sense
of
it
now
filled
him
with
a
curious
awkwardness
.
'
I
know
why
you
are
come
,
'
said
Langham
slowly
,
after
a
scrutiny
of
his
visitor
.
'
I
am
here
by
a
mere
accident
,
'
said
the
other
,
thinking
perfect
frankness
best
.
'
My
wife
was
present
when
her
sister
received
your
letter
.
Rose
gave
her
leave
to
tell
me
.
I
had
gone
up
to
ask
after
them
all
,
and
came
on
to
you
,
—
of
course
on
my
own
responsibility
entirely
!
Rose
knows
nothing
of
my
coming
—
nothing
of
what
I
have
to
say
.
'
He
paused
,
struck
against
his
will
by
the
looks
of
the
man
before
him
.
Whatever
he
had
done
during
the
past
twenty-four
hours
he
had
clearly
had
the
grace
to
suffer
in
the
doing
of
it
.
'
You
can
have
nothing
to
say
!
'
said
Langham
,
leaning
against
the
chimney
piece
and
facing
him
with
black
,
darkly-burning
eyes
.
'
You
know
me
.
'
Never
had
Robert
seen
him
under
this
aspect
.
All
the
despair
,
all
the
bitterness
hidden
under
the
languid
student
's
exterior
of
every
day
,
had
,
as
it
were
,
risen
to
the
surface
.
He
stood
at
bay
,
against
his
friend
,
against
himself
.
'
No
!
'
exclaimed
Robert
stoutly
,
'
I
do
not
know
you
in
the
sense
you
mean
.
I
do
not
know
you
as
the
man
who
could
beguile
a
girl
on
to
a
confession
of
love
,
and
then
tell
her
that
for
you
marriage
was
too
great
a
burden
to
be
faced
!
'
Langham
started
,
and
then
closed
his
lips
in
an
iron
silence
.
Robert
repented
him
a
little
.
Langham
's
strange
individuality
always
impressed
him
against
his
will
.
'
I
did
not
come
simply
to
reproach
you
,
Langham
,
'
he
went
on
,
'
though
I
confess
to
being
very
hot
!
I
came
to
try
and
find
out
—
for
myself
only
,
mind
—
whether
what
prevents
you
from
following
up
what
I
understand
happened
last
night
is
really
a
matter
of
feeling
,
or
a
matter
of
outward
circumstance
.
If
,
upon
reflection
,
you
find
that
your
feeling
for
Rose
is
not
what
you
imagined
it
to
be
,
I
shall
have
my
own
opinion
about
your
conduct
—
but
I
shall
be
the
first
to
acquiesce
in
what
you
have
done
this
morning
.
If
,
on
the
other
hand
,
you
are
simply
afraid
of
yourself
in
harness
,
and
afraid
of
the
responsibilities
of
practical
married
life
,
I
cannot
help
begging
you
to
talk
the
matter
over
with
me
,
and
let
us
face
it
together
.
Whether
Rose
would
ever
,
under
any
circumstances
,
get
over
the
shock
of
this
morning
I
have
not
the
remotest
idea
.
But
'
—
and
he
hesitated
—
'
it
seems
the
feeling
you
appealed
to
yesterday
has
been
of
long
growth
.
You
know
perfectly
well
what
havoc
a
thing
of
this
kind
may
make
in
a
girl
's
life
.
I
do
n't
say
it
will
.
But
,
at
any
rate
,
it
is
all
so
desperately
serious
I
could
not
hold
my
hand
.
I
am
doing
what
is
no
doubt
wholly
unconventional
;
but
I
am
your
friend
and
her
brother
;
I
brought
you
together
,
and
I
ask
you
to
take
me
into
counsel
.
If
you
had
but
done
it
before
!
'
There
was
a
moment
's
dead
silence
.
'
You
cannot
pretend
to
believe
,
'
said
Langham
at
last
,
with
the
same
sombre
self-containedness
,
'
that
a
marriage
with
me
would
be
for
your
sister-in-law
's
happiness
?
'
'
I
do
n't
know
what
to
believe
!
'
cried
Robert
.
'
No
,
'
he
added
frankly
,
'
no
;
when
I
saw
you
first
attracted
by
Rose
at
Murewell
I
disliked
the
idea
heartily
;
I
was
glad
to
see
you
separated
;
à
priori
,
I
never
thought
you
suited
to
each
other
.
But
reasoning
that
holds
good
when
a
thing
is
wholly
in
the
air
looks
very
different
when
a
man
has
committed
himself
and
another
,
as
you
have
done
.
'
Langham
surveyed
him
for
a
moment
,
then
shook
his
hair
impatiently
from
his
eyes
and
rose
from
his
bending
position
by
the
fire
.
'
Elsmere
,
there
is
nothing
to
be
said
!
I
have
behaved
as
vilely
as
you
please
.
I
have
forfeited
your
friendship
.
But
I
should
be
an
even
greater
fiend
and
weakling
than
you
think
me
if
,
in
cold
blood
,
I
could
let
your
sister
run
the
risk
of
marrying
me
.
I
could
not
trust
myself
—
you
may
think
of
the
statement
as
you
like
—
I
should
make
her
miserable
.
Last
night
I
had
not
parted
from
her
an
hour
before
I
was
utterly
and
irrevocably
sure
of
it
.
My
habits
are
my
masters
.
I
believe
,
'
he
added
slowly
,
his
eyes
fixed
weirdly
on
something
beyond
Robert
,
'
I
could
even
grow
to
hate
what
came
between
me
and
them
!
'
Was
it
the
last
word
of
the
man
's
life
?
It
struck
Robert
with
a
kind
of
shiver
.
'
Pray
heaven
,
'
he
said
with
a
groan
,
getting
up
to
go
,
'
you
may
not
have
made
her
miserable
already
!
'
'
Did
it
hurt
her
so
much
?
'
asked
Langham
almost
inaudibly
,
turning
away
,
Robert
's
tone
meanwhile
calling
up
a
new
and
scorching
image
in
the
subtle
brain
tissue
.
'
I
have
not
seen
her
,
'
said
Robert
abruptly
;
'
but
when
I
came
in
I
found
my
wife
—
who
has
no
light
tears
—
weeping
for
her
sister
.
'
His
voice
dropped
as
though
what
he
were
saying
were
in
truth
too
pitiful
and
too
intimate
for
speech
.
Langham
said
no
more
.
His
face
had
become
a
marble
mask
again
.
'
Good-bye
!
'
said
Robert
,
taking
up
his
hat
with
a
dismal
sense
of
having
got
foolishly
through
a
fool
's
errand
.
'
As
I
said
to
you
before
,
what
Rose
's
feeling
is
at
this
moment
I
cannot
even
guess
.
Very
likely
she
would
be
the
first
to
repudiate
half
of
what
I
have
been
saying
.
And
I
see
that
you
will
not
talk
to
me
—
you
will
not
take
me
into
your
confidence
and
speak
to
me
not
only
as
her
brother
but
as
your
friend
.
And
—
and
—
are
you
going
?
What
does
this
mean
?
'
He
looked
interrogatively
at
the
open
packing-cases
.
'
I
am
going
back
to
Oxford
,
'
said
the
other
briefly
.
'
I
cannot
stay
in
these
rooms
,
in
these
streets
.
'
Robert
was
sore
perplexed
.
What
real
—
nay
,
what
terrible
suffering
—
in
the
face
and
manner
,
and
yet
how
futile
,
how
needless
!
He
felt
himself
wrestling
with
something
intangible
and
phantom-like
,
wholly
unsubstantial
,
and
yet
endowed
with
a
ghastly
indefinite
power
over
human
life
.
'
It
is
very
hard
,
'
he
said
hurriedly
,
moving
nearer
,
'
that
our
old
friendship
should
be
crossed
like
this
.
Do
trust
me
a
little
!
You
are
always
undervaluing
yourself
.
Why
not
take
a
friend
into
council
sometimes
when
you
sit
in
judgment
on
yourself
and
your
possibilities
?
Your
own
perceptions
are
all
warped
!
'
Langham
,
looking
at
him
,
thought
his
smile
one
of
the
most
beautiful
and
one
of
the
most
irrelevant
things
he
had
ever
seen
.
'
I
will
write
to
you
,
Elsmere
,
'
he
said
,
holding
out
his
hand
,
'
speech
is
impossible
to
me
.
I
never
had
any
words
except
through
my
pen
.
'
Robert
gave
it
up
.
In
another
minute
Langham
was
left
alone
.
But
he
did
no
more
packing
for
hours
.
He
spent
the
middle
of
the
day
sitting
dumb
and
immovable
in
his
chair
.
Imagination
was
at
work
again
more
feverishly
than
ever
.
He
was
tortured
by
a
fixed
image
of
Rose
,
suffering
and
paling
.
And
after
a
certain
number
of
hours
he
could
no
more
bear
the
incubus
of
this
thought
than
he
could
put
up
with
the
flat
prospects
of
married
life
the
night
before
.
He
was
all
at
sea
,
barely
sane
,
in
fact
.
His
life
had
been
so
long
purely
intellectual
that
this
sudden
strain
of
passion
and
fierce
practical
interests
seemed
to
unhinge
him
,
to
destroy
his
mental
balance
.
He
bethought
him
.
This
afternoon
he
knew
she
had
a
last
rehearsal
at
Searle
House
.
Afterwards
her
custom
was
to
come
back
from
St.
James
's
Park
to
High
Street
,
Kensington
,
and
walk
up
the
hill
to
her
own
home
.
He
knew
it
,
for
on
two
occasions
after
these
rehearsals
he
had
been
at
Lerwick
Gardens
,
waiting
for
her
,
with
Agnes
and
Mrs.
Leyburn
.
Would
she
go
this
afternoon
?
A
subtle
instinct
told
him
that
she
would
.
It
was
nearly
six
o'clock
that
evening
when
Rose
,
stepping
out
from
the
High
Street
station
,
crossed
the
main
road
and
passed
into
the
darkness
of
one
of
the
streets
leading
up
the
hill
.
She
had
forced
herself
to
go
,
and
she
would
go
alone
.
But
as
she
toiled
along
she
felt
weary
and
bruised
all
over
.
She
carried
with
her
a
heart
of
lead
—
a
sense
of
utter
soreness
—
a
longing
to
hide
herself
from
eyes
and
tongues
.
The
only
thing
that
dwelt
softly
in
the
shaken
mind
was
a
sort
of
inconsequent
memory
of
Mr.
Flaxman
's
manner
at
the
rehearsal
.
Had
she
looked
so
ill
?
She
flushed
hotly
at
the
thought
,
and
then
realised
again
,
with
a
sense
of
childish
comfort
,
the
kind
look
and
voice
,
the
delicate
care
shown
in
shielding
her
from
any
unnecessary
exertion
,
the
brotherly
grasp
of
the
hand
with
which
he
had
put
her
into
the
cab
that
took
her
to
the
Underground
.
Suddenly
,
where
the
road
made
a
dark
turn
to
the
right
,
she
saw
a
man
standing
.
As
she
came
nearer
she
saw
that
it
was
Langham
.
'
You
!
'
she
cried
,
stopping
.
He
came
up
to
her
.
There
was
a
light
over
the
doorway
of
a
large
detached
house
not
far
off
,
which
threw
a
certain
illumination
over
him
,
though
it
left
her
in
shadow
.
He
said
nothing
,
but
he
held
out
both
his
hands
mutely
.
She
fancied
rather
than
saw
the
pale
emotion
of
his
look
.
'
What
?
'
she
said
,
after
a
pause
.
'
You
think
to-night
is
last
night
!
You
and
I
have
nothing
to
say
to
each
other
,
Mr.
Langham
.
'
'
I
have
everything
to
say
,
'
he
answered
,
under
his
breath
;
'
I
have
committed
a
crime
—
a
villainy
.
'
'
And
it
is
not
pleasant
to
you
?
'
she
said
,
quivering
.
'
I
am
sorry
—
I
cannot
help
you
.
But
you
are
wrong
—
it
was
no
crime
—
it
was
necessary
and
profitable
,
like
the
doses
of
one
's
childhood
!
Oh
!
I
might
have
guessed
you
would
do
this
;
No
,
Mr.
Langham
,
I
am
in
no
danger
of
an
interesting
decline
.
I
have
just
played
my
concerto
very
fairly
.
I
shall
not
disgrace
myself
at
the
concert
to-morrow
night
.
You
may
be
at
peace
—
I
have
learnt
several
things
to-day
that
have
been
salutary
—
very
salutary
.
'
She
paused
.
He
walked
beside
her
while
she
pelted
him
,
—
unresisting
,
helplessly
silent
.
'
Do
n't
come
any
farther
,
'
she
said
resolutely
after
a
minute
,
turning
to
face
him
.
'
Let
us
be
quits
!
I
was
a
temptingly
easy
prey
.
I
bear
no
malice
.
And
do
not
let
me
break
your
friendship
with
Robert
;
that
began
before
this
foolish
business
—
it
should
outlast
it
.
Very
likely
we
shall
be
friends
again
,
like
ordinary
people
,
some
day
.
I
do
not
imagine
your
wound
is
very
deep
,
and
—
—
'
But
no
!
Her
lips
closed
;
not
even
for
pride
's
sake
,
and
retort
's
sake
,
will
she
desecrate
the
past
,
belittle
her
own
first
love
.
She
held
out
her
hand
.
It
was
very
dark
.
He
could
see
nothing
among
her
furs
but
the
gleaming
whiteness
of
her
face
.
The
whole
personality
seemed
centred
in
the
voice
—
the
half-mocking
vibrating
voice
.
He
took
her
hand
and
dropped
it
instantly
.
'
You
do
not
understand
,
'
he
said
hopelessly
—
feeling
as
though
every
phrase
he
uttered
,
or
could
utter
,
were
equally
fatuous
,
equally
shameful
.
'
Thank
heaven
,
you
never
will
understand
.
'
'
I
think
I
do
,
'
she
said
with
a
change
of
tone
,
and
paused
.
He
raised
his
eyes
involuntarily
,
met
hers
,
and
stood
bewildered
.
What
was
the
expression
in
them
?
It
was
yearning
—
but
not
the
yearning
of
passion
.
'
If
things
had
been
different
—
if
one
could
change
the
self
—
if
the
past
were
nobler
!
'
—
was
that
the
cry
of
them
?
A
painful
humility
—
a
boundless
pity
—
the
rise
of
some
moral
wave
within
her
he
could
neither
measure
nor
explain
—
these
were
some
of
the
impressions
which
passed
from
her
to
him
.
A
fresh
gulf
opened
between
them
,
and
he
saw
her
transformed
on
the
farther
side
,
with
,
as
it
were
,
a
loftier
gesture
,
a
nobler
stature
,
than
had
ever
yet
been
hers
.
He
bent
forward
quickly
,
caught
her
hands
,
held
them
for
an
instant
to
his
lips
in
a
convulsive
grasp
,
dropped
them
,
and
was
gone
.
He
gained
his
own
room
again
.
There
lay
the
medley
of
his
books
,
his
only
friends
,
his
real
passion
.
Why
had
he
ever
tampered
with
any
other
?
'
It
was
not
love
—
not
love
!
'
he
said
to
himself
,
with
an
accent
of
infinite
relief
as
he
sank
into
his
chair
.
'
Her
smart
will
heal
.
'
BOOK
VI
NEW
OPENINGS
CHAPTER
XXXVII
Ten
days
after
Langham
's
return
to
Oxford
Elsmere
received
a
characteristic
letter
from
him
,
asking
whether
their
friendship
was
to
be
considered
as
still
existing
or
at
an
end
.
The
calm
and
even
proud
melancholy
of
the
letter
showed
a
considerable
subsidence
of
that
state
of
half-frenzied
irritation
and
discomfort
in
which
Elsmere
had
last
seen
him
.
The
writer
,
indeed
,
was
