whomshe
speaks
is
in
hiding
behind
the
door
.
"
He
is
not
fond
of
dogs
,
"
answers
Belinda
evasively
,
her
face
suddenly
darkening
as
if
a
light
had
been
blown
out
in
it
.
"
Slutty
exists
only
on
sufferance
,
do
not
you
,
Slutty
?
"
"
Whew
—
w
!
"
says
Sarah
,
pulling
a
long
face
,
and
with
a
low
whistle
;
"
and
shall
I
,
too
,
exist
only
on
sufferance
,
pray
?
"
Belinda
is
saved
from
the
necessity
of
answering
a
question
,
her
reply
to
which
must
have
been
either
an
incivility
or
a
lie
,
by
the
fact
that
they
have
now
entered
the
house
,
and
that
her
sister
's
roving
eyes
and
attention
are
claimed
by
other
objects
.
Preceded
by
the
dogs
,
Slutty
churlishly
growling
,
and
Punch
animatedly
sniffing
,
they
reach
the
drawing-room
.
"
Not
such
a
bad
room
!
"
says
Sarah
patronizingly
,
looking
round
;
"
better
than
I
expected
;
only
it
wants
pulling
about
.
"
"
Mr.
Forth
does
not
like
rooms
pulled
about
.
"
The
other
breaks
into
a
laugh
.
"
Mr.
Forth
!
Is
it
possible
that
after
six
months
he
is
still
Mr.
Forth
?
"
"
What
else
should
he
be
?
"
says
Belinda
,
with
stiff
embarrassment
;
"
he
has
not
yet
been
raised
to
the
peerage
.
He
is
not
'
Lord
Forth
'
!
"
"
I
shall
call
him
'
James
'
!
"
says
Sarah
firmly
;
"
I
am
sure
that
he
will
wish
me
to
call
him
'
James
'
!
"
Mr.
Forth
's
wife
laughs
grimly
.
"
It
will
at
least
have
the
charm
of
novelty
for
him
!
"
There
is
such
a
bitter
dryness
in
the
quasi-playfulness
of
her
tone
that
Sarah
stops
suddenly
short
in
her
critical
survey
of
the
early
English
chairs
,
and
the
Albert
Düurer
etchings
,
in
which
Oxbridge
drawing-rooms
delight
;
and
focussing
her
elder
with
her
two
insistant
eyes
,
says
,
taking
her
the
while
firmly
by
both
wrists
:
"
Come
now
;
we
are
alone
;
tell
me
,
how
does
it
work
?
has
it
answered
?
"
But
Belinda
shakes
off
the
small
strong
hands
as
Samson
shook
off
the
tough
withes
.
"
You
must
see
the
rest
of
the
house
,
"
she
cries
,
beginning
to
talk
rapidly
and
rather
loudly
,
and
absolutely
ignoring
the
question
addressed
to
her
;
"
you
must
see
my
room
;
your
own
room
—
yours
looks
upon
the
tennis-ground
.
Have
you
brought
your
racquet
and
your
shoes
?
we
must
have
some
tennis
!
"
Sarah
does
not
press
the
subject
so
obviously
avoided
,
but
as
she
follows
her
sister
upstairs
she
repeatedly
shakes
her
head
.
"
This
is
my
room
,
"
says
Belinda
,
as
they
reach
the
landing
,
throwing
open
doors
as
she
speaks
.
"
This
is
—
his
"
(
with
a
slight
hesitation
before
the
pronoun
,
that
shows
that
only
the
dread
of
a
repetition
of
her
sister
's
ridicule
has
kept
her
from
designating
her
husband
by
the
formal
style
and
title
which
she
habitually
employs
towards
him
)
;
"
and
this
!
"
(
not
opening
,
but
simply
indicating
a
third
door
)
,
"
this
is
old
Mrs.
Forth
's
.
"
"
Oh
,
do
take
me
in
!
do
introduce
me
!
"
cries
Sarah
eagerly
;
"
it
has
been
the
dream
of
my
life
to
see
his
mother
!
You
will
not
mind
my
saying
so
,
but
there
is
something
so
humorous
in
his
having
a
mother
.
"
"
It
would
be
no
use
,
"
replies
Belinda
,
not
offering
to
comply
with
this
request
;
"
she
would
probably
mistake
you
for
her
son
.
"
"
Well
,
we
have
a
look
of
each
other
,
"
cries
Sarah
delightedly
;
"
but
is
she
as
bad
as
that
?
"
arching
her
eyebrows
till
they
almost
meet
,
and
are
lost
in
her
hair
.
Belinda
nods
in
acquiescence
,
"
And
does
she
never
stop
asking
questions
?
"
"
Never
.
"
"
And
do
you
always
answer
them
?
"
"
Poor
old
woman
!
why
not
?
if
I
were
not
answering
hers
I
should
only
be
answering
some
one
else
's
.
"
There
is
such
a
weary
,
devil-may-carishness
in
her
tone
,
that
again
her
sister
's
eyes
flash
investigatingly
upon
her
;
but
this
time
Belinda
has
been
too
quick
for
her
,
and
,
avoiding
their
scrutiny
,
is
doing
the
honours
of
a
fourth
room
.
"
And
this
is
yours
,
"
she
says
,
a
smile
such
as
the
one
with
which
she
had
welcomed
her
sister
sweetening
and
gentling
the
now
habitual
sullenness
of
her
face
;
"
it
smells
good
,
does
not
it
?
"
"
Why
,
you
have
given
me
all
your
flowers
!
"
cries
Sarah
,
burying
her
face
in
a
bowl
of
freshly
picked
narcissus
.
"
I
noticed
that
there
was
scarcely
one
in
the
drawing-room
.
"
"
Mr.
Forth
dislikes
the
smell
of
flowers
,
"
replies
Belinda
.
She
says
it
in
a
tame
level
voice
;
not
as
making
a
complaint
,
but
simply
as
stating
a
fact
.
"
He
seems
to
have
a
good
many
dislikes
,
"
says
Sarah
drily
.
Belinda
lets
the
remark
fall
upon
silence
.
CHAPTER
II
.
Dinner
has
been
early
,
and
is
over
.
The
sisters
stand
,
each
cooling
a
fiery
cheek
against
the
woodwork
of
the
drawing-room
window
,
while
the
latest
blackbird
is
singing
his
version
of
"
Glory
to
Thee
,
my
God
,
this
night
,
"
and
the
laburnum
's
lithe
bunches
hang
yellow
against
almost
as
yellow
a
sunset
.
"
Does
he
never
open
a
window
?
"
asks
Sarah
,
greedily
thrusting
out
her
head
into
the
cool
greenness
of
the
very
respectably
grown
clematis
and
jessamine
that
climb
the
house-wall
.
"
Never
!
"
"
Then
I
should
make
a
point
of
falling
off
my
chair
in
a
faint
regularly
every
day
,
at
dinner
,
until
he
did
.
"
"
You
would
fall
off
your
chair
in
a
faint
every
day
until
the
Day
of
Judgment
,
in
that
case
,
"
replies
Belinda
,
with
stony
quiet
.
"
But
for
the
stewpan
atmosphere
,
"
continues
Sarah
,
heaving
her
white
chest
in
a
deep
and
vigorous
inhalation
,
"
it
really
did
not
go
off
so
badly
;
at
first
there
seemed
a
trifling
awkwardness
—
I
think
,
Punchy
,
that
you
would
have
done
as
well
on
the
whole
to
remain
at
your
town
house
—
but
my
fine
tact
soon
smoothed
it
over
.
"
"
You
did
not
call
him
'
James
,
'
however
,
"
replies
Belinda
,
with
a
short
sarcastic
laugh
.
"
Well
,
no
,
"
replies
Sarah
a
little
blankly
,
and
for
once
in
her
life
making
no
attempt
at
repartee
or
explanation
.
"
I
did
not
.
"
But
the
next
moment
—
"
How
soon
do
we
go
?
"
cries
she
joyously
.
"
St.
Ursula
's
is
the
largest
college
in
Oxbridge
,
is
it
not
?
Will
all
Oxbridge
be
there
to
meet
the
Duke
?
But
I
suppose
you
are
all
much
above
setting
any
store
by
royalties
!
It
is
only
the
empire
of
the
mind
,
"
pompously
,
"
to
which
you
attach
any
value
!
"
"
Is
it
?
"
replies
Belinda
expressively
.
"
Now
I
am
the
common
British
flunkey
,
"
continues
Sarah
confidentially
;
"
and
so
used
you
to
be
!
I
love
royalties
;
there
is
nothing
too
small
for
me
to
hear
about
them
.
I
should
be
thoroughly
interested
to
learn
how
many
pairs
of
stockings
the
Queen
has
,
and
whether
she
takes
sugar
in
her
tea
.
"
Belinda
laughs
.
"
Everybody
will
be
there
,
then
?
"
resumes
Sarah
in
a
voice
of
the
extremest
exhilaration
,
"
and
you
will
introduce
me
to
everybody
.
What
will
they
think
of
me
?
Will
they
expect
me
to
say
anything
clever
?
Will
they
like
me
?
"
"
H
—
m
!
"
replies
Belinda
dubiously
,
scanning
affectionately
from
head
to
foot
the
seductive
but
not
altogether
academic
figure
before
her
;
"
I
doubt
it
!
"
"
After
all
,
they
must
be
human
,
"
says
Sarah
philosophically
.
"
When
one
has
pierced
the
thick
crust
of
their
erudition
—
"
"
Perhaps
in
some
cases
not
so
very
thick
,
"
interposes
Belinda
ironically
.
"
One
will
find
a
human
heart
beating
beneath
—
a
heart
that
may
be
punctured
by
my
little
darts
,
eh
?
"
"
Possibly
!
"
in
a
by
no
means
confident
tone
.
"
I
shall
devote
myself
chiefly
to
the
undergraduates
,
I
think
,
"
says
Sarah
thoughtfully
.
"
Do
you
know
many
?
do
you
see
much
of
them
?
"
Belinda
shrugs
her
handsome
shoulders
indifferently
.
"
Poor
boys
!
they
come
to
call
;
but
they
are
too
much
afraid
of
me
to
open
their
lips
.
I
have
lost
none
of
my
power
of
inspiring
terror
,
"
she
adds
with
a
bitter
smile
.
"
It
is
the
one
of
my
gifts
that
I
keep
in
its
entirety
.
"
"
We
will
change
all
that
,
"
says
Sarah
piously
:
"
the
reign
of
fear
is
over
;
that
of
love
is
begun
!
"
Belinda
has
moved
to
the
middle
of
the
room
,
and
is
occupied
in
pulling
down
the
central
gas-jet
,
and
lowering
the
gas
,
harshly
glaring
under
its
globes
.
Her
pose
—
wreathed
head
thrown
back
,
and
long
bare
arm
roundly
lifted
—
brings
into
evidence
the
finest
curves
of
her
noble
figure
.
"
And
do
not
they
admire
you
either
,
par
hasard
?
"
asks
Sarah
,
in
a
voice
of
affectionate
incredulity
.
Belinda
shakes
her
head
.
"
If
they
do
,
they
disguise
it
admirably
.
Stay
!
"
with
a
gesture
of
recollection
;
"
now
I
come
to
think
of
it
,
I
believe
that
one
young
person
of
an
æsthetic
tendency
was
once
heard
to
observe
that
I
was
'
great
and
still
'
;
but
that
is
the
only
civil
speech
I
have
reaped
in
six
months
,
and
even
that
one
is
perhaps
a
little
ambiguous
.
"
"
Great
and
still
!
"
repeats
Sarah
,
giggling
;
"
well
,
at
all
events
they
shall
not
say
that
of
me
!
"
She
is
still
chuckling
,
when
the
opening
door
admits
her
brother-in-law
.
At
once
her
chuckle
has
an
inclination
to
die
,
but
she
bravely
resists
it
.
"
I
appeal
to
you
,
"
she
says
,
going
boldly
up
to
him
.
"
Belinda
has
been
taking
away
your
town
's
character
;
she
says
that
she
is
not
at
all
admired
here
,
and
that
neither
shall
I
be
.
Is
it
true
?
is
it
possible
?
"
It
is
certainly
well
to
be
on
easy
terms
with
your
brother-in-law
;
but
,
in
a
case
so
exceptional
as
that
of
Miss
Churchill
,
it
is
perhaps
hardly
wise
to
address
him
with
an
alluring
archness
that
may
remind
him
of
former
disasters
.
At
all
events
,
in
the
present
case
it
is
not
successful
.
"
I
am
afraid
that
I
must
ask
you
to
excuse
me
,
"
he
says
sourly
,
turning
on
his
heel
.
"
I
must
refer
you
to
some
one
better
qualified
to
give
an
opinion
on
such
a
point
.
Belinda
,
I
must
request
your
assistance
with
my
gown
.
"
There
is
something
in
his
tone
so
unequivocally
unplayful
,
thàt
Sarah
slinks
away
snubbed
,
and
for
the
moment
robbed
of
all
her
little
airs
and
graces
;
and
Belinda
rises
with
rebellious
slowness
,
flame
in
her
eye
and
revolt
in
her
nether
lip
,
to
render
the
grudging
aid
demanded
of
her
.
As
her
reluctant
hand
holds
the
gown
for
her
husband
to
put
on
,
they
both
find
themselves
unintentionally
standing
plump
and
full
before
a
rather
large
mirror
,
inevitably
facing
their
own
figures
,
thus
brought
into
sudden
juxtaposition
.
Belinda
is
in
gala-dress
.
In
honour
of
the
Duke
,
and
for
the
first
time
since
her
marriage
,
Oxbridge
is
to
see
her
neck
and
shoulders
.
Upon
their
smooth
sea
of
cream
,
unbroken
by
any
trifling
necklet
—
a
sea
that
flows
unrippled
over
the
small
collar-bones
—
the
gas-lamps
throw
satin
reflets
;
a
little
chaplet
of
seasonable
cowslips
clasps
her
well-set
head
,
and
wrath
has
borrowed
love
's
red
pennon
and
planted
it
in
her
cheeks
.
She
looks
a
magnificent
embodiment
of
youth
and
vigour
,
dwarfing
into
yet
meaner
insignificance
the
parched
figure
beside
her
.
Mrs.
Forth
casts
one
pregnant
look
at
the
two
reflections
,
and
then
hearing
,
or
feigning
to
hear
,
a
sound
of
suppressed
mirth
behind
her
,
she
says
,
in
a
clear
,
incisive
voice
:
"
What
are
you
laughing
at
,
Sarah
?
Are
you
admiring
us
?
Are
you
thinking
what
a
nice-looking
pair
we
are
?
"
She
lays
a
slight
but
cruel
accent
on
the
noun
.
Pair
,
indeed
!
From
Fate
's
strangely
jumbled
bag
were
never
two
such
odd
ones
sorted
out
before
.
The
Professor
has
turned
sharply
away
,
but
not
before
his
wife
has
had
the
satisfaction
of
seeing
that
her
shot
has
told
;
but
Sarah
maintains
a
scared
silence
.
The
fly
is
late
in
arriving
.
Probably
it
has
had
many
freights
to
take
up
and
put
down
on
this
festal
night
before
the
Forths
'
turn
comes
.
At
length
,
however
,
and
just
as
Sarah
is
beginning
wistfully
to
interrogate
her
Louis
Quinze
shoes
as
to
their
powers
of
reaching
St.
Ursula
and
H
.
R
.
H
.
on
foot
,
it
drives
up
,
and
they
all
get
in
.
Possibly
Belinda
,
though
she
makes
no
approaches
towards
a
verbal
amende
,
may
be
remorseful
for
her
spurt
of
malevolence
.
At
all
events
,
she
offers
no
objection
to
the
raising
of
the
window
on
her
side
;
nor
does
she
,
even
by
a
pardonable
gasp
or
two
,
or
an
obtruded
fanning
,
resent
the
insult
to
the
summer
night
.
The
lateness
of
their
fly
has
retarded
them
so
much
,
that
instead
of
being
first
at
the
rendezvous
,
as
is
the
Professor
's
usual
habit
,
they
see
,
on
reaching
St.
Ursula
's
,
the
great
quadrangle
that
the
proudest
churchman
built
filled
with
every
carriage
and
bath-chair
that
Oxbridge
's
modest
mews
can
boast
;
filled
,
too
,
with
capped
men
and
hooded
women
,
hurrying
to
the
goal
.
They
have
trodden
the
low-stepped
stone
stairs
,
along
whose
side
lie
unwonted
banks
of
green
moss
that
smells
of
cool
,
woodland
places
,
planted
with
young
field
flowers
;
have
passed
the
one
slender
shaft
that
,
upspringing
,
bears
the
vaulted
roof
,
and
its
loveliest
stone
fans
,
and
have
entered
the
lordly
hall
,
where
Elizabeth
Tudor
once
saw
Masks
,
and
where
one
of
the
sons
of
her
latest
successor
is
listening
with
a
courteous
patience
,
probably
superior
to
hers
,
to
such
improvements
upon
the
barbarous
Mask
and
obsolete
Allegory
as
the
nineteenth
century
,
rich
in
the
spoils
of
its
eighteen
grandfathers
,
can
afford
him
.
In
the
present
instance
,
the
substitute
offered
is
a
tale
told
,
not
by
an
idiot
,
but
by
an
excessively
hot
young
man
,
striking
occasionally
sensational
chords
on
the
piano
,
at
which
he
is
seated
upon
the
raised
daïs
,
where
the
"
Fellows
'
"
table
is
wont
to
stand
—
a
monstrously
long
tale
about
a
signalman
,
who
,
while
busied
in
working
his
points
,
sees
his
infant
,
through
some
glaring
domestic
mismanagement
,
staggering
across
the
metals
at
the
precise
moment
when
an
express
train
is
due
.
The
struggle
between
his
emotions
as
a
parent
and
as
a
pointsman
is
so
mercilessly
protracted
,
that
the
audience
,
unable
to
bear
the
prolonged
strain
upon
their
feelings
,
are
relieving
themselves
by
a
good
deal
of
sotto
voce
,
or
not
quite
sotto
voce
conversation
.
But
the
Prince
sits
immovably
polite
,
not
permitting
himself
even
one
aside
to
his
sémillante
hostess
,
who
,
all
loyal
smiles
,
is
posed
in
glory
on
a
chair
in
the
front
rank
beside
him
.
Large
as
is
the
assemblage
,
so
nobly
proportioned
is
the
great
room
,
that
there
is
no
crowd
.
Every
woman
has
put
on
her
best
gown
;
and
every
woman
has
the
satisfaction
of
thinking
that
every
other
woman
has
seen
,
is
seeing
,
or
will
fully
see
it
;
not
,
indeed
,
to
do
them
justice
,
that
this
is
a
consideration
much
likely
to
engage
the
attention
of
the
Oxbridge
ladies
.
Thanks
to
the
height
of
the
carved
oak
roof
,
whither
the
vapours
can
ascend
,
below
it
is
cool
and
fragrant
.
With
the
one
emphatic
exception
of
the
detailer
of
the
signalman
's
perplexities
,
scarce
one
of
the
living
guests
has
a
more
heated
air
than
the
brave
line
of
judges
,
bishops
,
philosophers
,
premiers
—
St.
Ursula
's
dead
glories
—
looking
down
in
painted
tranquillity
from
the
walls
.
"
You
must
introduce
me
to
everybody
,
and
tell
me
who
they
are
,
and
what
they
have
done
,
so
that
I
may
say
something
suitable
,
"
says
Sarah
,
in
a
flutter
of
pleasure
,
looking
beamingly
round
on
the
,
to
her
,
eccentric
throng
of
black-gowned
M.A.
's
,
with
their
flat
college
caps
tucked
under
their
arms
;
of
velvet-sleeved
proctors
,
etc.
"
For
heaven
's
sake
,
do
not
try
!
"
says
Belinda
,
in
serious
dissuasion
,
"
or
you
will
be
sure
to
make
a
mess
of
it
!
"
Sarah
shrugs
her
white
shoulders
.
She
is
so
clamorous
to
be
presented
to
everyone
,
that
Belinda
,
after
patiently
pointing
out
to
her
,
and
,
where
feasible
,
making
her
personally
acquainted
with
the
owners
of
many
of
the
local
,
all
the
half-dozen
national
,
and
the
one
or
two
European
reputations
that
grace
the
room
,
at
length
strikes
work
.
"
You
are
insatiable
!
"
she
says
.
"
You
are
as
bad
as
Miss
Watson
!
"
"
Unberufen
!
"
cries
Sarah
,
with
a
shudder
that
is
not
all
affectation
,
"
do
not
mention
that
accursed
name
;
I
could
have
sworn
that
I
heard
her
voice
just
now
!
"
The
room
is
fuller
than
it
was
.
About
the
door
,
indeed
,
and
the
lower
part
of
the
hall
,
circulation
is
still
easy
;
but
who
would
be
content
with
elbow-room
at
a
lower
end
,
when
the
sight
of
a
genuine
live
English
royal
Duke
—
no
dubious
Serene
German
—
is
to
be
fought
for
at
the
upper
?
"
And
you
say
that
we
are
not
loyal
!
"
says
Belinda
,
with
that
irony
now
so
frequently
assumed
by
her
,
as
they
,
too
,
push
and
jostle
their
forward
way
.
They
have
to
push
and
jostle
for
themselves
.
Immediately
upon
their
entry
,
their
natural
pusher
and
jostler
,
the
Professor
,
has
quitted
them
for
associates
more
akin
in
age
and
conformable
in
tastes
than
the
two
handsome
girls
assigned
by
a
sarcastic
Providence
to
his
jurisdiction
.
As
they
so
work
slowly
forwards
,
gaining
a
step
a
minute
,
they
are
conscious
of
a
disturbed
heaving
of
the
wave
of
humanity
behind
them
—
as
when
the
ocean
is
ploughed
by
some
puissant
steamer
,
or
monstrous
shark
.
At
the
same
instant
a
familiar
voice
,
whose
accents
Sarah
had
already
but
too
truly
caught
,
breaks
in
brazen
certainty
upon
their
ears
:
"
I
am
sure
I
beg
a
thousand
pardons
!
but
in
a
crush
of
this
kind
it
is
quite
unavoidable
.
I
really
must
beg
you
to
make
way
for
me
!
I
am
naturally
anxious
to
get
to
the
top
of
the
room
,
having
a
personal
acquaintance
with
the
Duke
,
or
what
really
amounts
to
the
same
thing
.
"
The
loud
voice
grows
nearer
,
the
wave-like
swell
heavier
.
She
is
close
behind
them
now
.
Belinda
has
turned
white
and
sick
.
That
dreadful
voice
!
Even
here
,
on
this
hot
May
night
,
in
the
thick
festal
crowd
,
of
what
power
is
it
to
re-create
for
her
that
miserable
fog-stained
Christmas
morning
,
on
which
,
in
her
madness
,
she
had
allowed
a
few
senseless
words
uttered
by
that
brutal
voice
to
seal
her
doom
for
her
.
"
Speak
to
her
!
"
she
says
,
in
a
choked
whisper
to
her
sister
.
"
I
cannot
.
"
"
Hold
your
head
down
!
"
rejoins
the
other
,
hastily
putting
into
practice
her
own
precept
,
and
burying
her
nose
in
the
lilies
of
the
valley
on
her
breast
;
"
perhaps
she
will
not
see
us
!
"
But
when
did
Miss
Watson
ever
fail
to
see
anyone
?
One
final
oaring
of
her
powerful
arm
has
brought
her
alongside
of
them
.
"
Belinda
!
Sarah
!
"
she
cries
loudly
,
seeing
that
her
mere
presence
,
although
sufficiently
obvious
,
has
apparently
failed
to
attract
their
attention
;
"
do
not
you
know
me
?
Emily
Watson
?
Dresden
?
Has
anything
been
going
on
?
have
I
lost
much
?
—
I
could
not
possibly
get
here
before
—
quite
a
sudden
thought
my
coming
at
all
.
I
heard
that
the
Sampsons
were
coming
down
to
see
their
boy
,
who
is
at
King
's
;
so
it
struck
me
I
would
join
them
and
come
,
too
.
I
took
them
quite
by
surprise
—
met
them
at
the
station
.
'
Why
not
see
Oxbridge
all
together
?
'
I
said
;
'
halve
the
expense
,
and
double
the
pleasure
!
'
"
She
pauses
out
of
breath
,
and
looks
eagerly
onwards
towards
the
spot
where
,
beyond
his
mother
's
struggling
lieges
,
the
Prince
sits
,
cool
and
civil
,
with
his
suite
on
their
row
of
chairs
.
"
I
was
so
afraid
that
the
Prince
might
be
gone
,
"
pursues
she
volubly
;
"
the
royalties
sometimes
go
so
early
,
you
know
.
Have
you
been
presented
to
him
?
Do
you
know
him
?
well
,
enough
to
present
me
?
No
?
Well
,
then
I
must
re-introduce
myself
:
I
have
no
doubt
that
a
word
will
suffice
to
recall
me
to
H.R.H.
's
recollection
.
Royal
memories
are
proverbially
good
,
you
know
.
I
must
get
hold
of
his
equerry
;
I
know
him
quite
well
—
once
crossed
over
in
the
same
steamer
from
Newhaven
to
Dieppe
with
him
.
"
The
last
few
words
are
thrown
back
over
her
shoulder
,
as
she
has
already
resumed
her
vigorous
fight
onwards
.
With
fascinated
eyes
they
watch
her
athlete
's
progress
to
the
front
.
The
human
billows
part
before
her
.
The
crowd
lies
behind
her
.
She
has
reached
smooth
water
and
the
Prince
.
The
signalman
's
troubles
are
by
this
time
drawing
to
their
close
.
His
rosy
babe
has
been
found
lying
smiling
on
the
line
;
the
express
train
having
,
contrary
to
its
usual
habit
,
passed
over
the
pretty
innocent
without
inflicting
a
scratch
.
Most
people
draw
a
long
breath
;
but
whether
at
the
babe
's
immunity
or
their
own
,
who
shall
decide
?
"
She
is
making
him
shake
hands
with
her
!
"
says
Sarah
,
in
a
shocked
voice
,
standing
on
tiptoe
,
and
stretching
her
neck
.
It
is
too
true
.
In
defiance
of
etiquette
and
despite
the
horrified
look
of
the
hostess
,
Miss
Watson
is
warmly
grasping
her
Duke
's
hand
.
Against
the
background
of
wall
and
chairs
her
figure
stands
out
plainly
silhouetted
—
fringe
,
garish
evening-dress
,
and
hot
red
neck
!
To
their
ears
come
even
fragments
of
her
resonant
speech
:
"
Your
equerry
,
sir
!
"
"
Newhaven
!
"
"
Sea-sick
!
"
"
I
should
like
to
sit
down
,
"
says
Belinda
,
in
a
spent
voice
.
This
is
easier
said
than
done
.
By
slow
degrees
,
however
,
they
succeed
in
edging
out
of
the
crowd
;
and
are
lucky
enough
to
find
an
unoccupied
sofa
,
upon
which
Belinda
seats
herself
;
and
whither
,
presently
,
various
of
her
acquaintance
come
and
exchange
remarks
with
her
upon
the
success
of
the
entertainment
,
the
excellence
of
the
supper
,
the
affability
of
the
Prince
,
etc.
In
one
of
the
intervals
between
two
of
these
fragments
of
conversation
she
perceives
that
her
charge
has
left
her
side
;
but
it
requires
no
very
distant
excursion
of
the
eye
to
discover
her
standing
at
the
supper-table
,
an
ice
in
her
hand
,
having
,
by
the
agency
of
one
of
her
just-made
acquaintance
,
effected
an
introduction
to
a
good-looking
undergraduate
,
who
in
return
is
presenting
to
her
a
second
,
who
in
his
turn
will
obviously
present
to
her
a
third
and
a
fourth
.
A
little
mob
of
young
men
is
beginning
to
gather
round
her
.
A
moment
more
,
and
,
her
ice
finished
,
followed
by
her
cortège
,
Sarah
returns
to
her
sister
,
winking
so
deftly
as
to
be
invisible
to
the
outer
world
as
she
comes
.
"
Belinda
,
"
she
says
,
"
I
want
to
introduce
to
you
Mr.
Bellairs
,
who
tells
me
that
he
plays
tennis
remarkably
well
"
(
an
indistinct
disclaimer
from
the
blushing
Bellairs
)
;
"
and
Mr.
Stanley
,
who
plays
very
nicely
too
;
and
Mr.
De
Lisle
,
who
thinks
he
would
play
very
nicely
if
he
had
a
little
more
practice
.
"
Belinda
laughs
slightly
,
amused
at
the
glibness
with
which
her
sister
has
already
mastered
her
new
admirers
'
names
.
She
has
risen
to
her
feet
again
—
Professor
Forth
's
wife
—
the
stern-faced
beauty
whom
in
their
walks
and
talks
the
boys
have
often
with
distant
awe
admired
.
"
I
am
sure
,
"
she
says
,
with
a
sweet
cold
smile
,
"
that
if
you
care
to
try
our
small
ground
,
I
shall
be
very
—
"
She
is
a
tall
woman
,
and
her
eyes
are
on
a
level
with
Bellairs
'
.
She
can
,
therefore
,
easily
look
over
his
shoulder
.
What
sight
is
it
so
seen
that
makes
her
stop
suddenly
in
mid-speech
,
with
a
catch
in
her
breath
?
The
pause
is
but
short
.
Almost
before
her
auditors
have
had
time
to
notice
the
hiatus
,
it
is
filled
up
.
"
I
shall
be
very
happy
to
see
you
any
day
you
choose
to
come
—
to-morrow
,
any
day
!
"
Her
words
are
perfectly
collected
;
but
surely
she
is
far
,
far
paler
than
she
was
when
she
began
to
speak
;
and
though
her
sentences
are
addressed
to
the
young
men
,
her
eyes
are
wandering
oddly
beyond
them
.
"
Upon
my
soul
,
I
believe
the
woman
is
off
her
head
!
"
Stanley
says
confidentially
to
Bellairs
,
as
they
walk
home
together
in
the
moonlight
.
"
Did
you
notice
her
eyes
when
she
was
talking
to
us
?
they
made
me
feel
quite
jumpy
!
"
"
Off
her
head
!
"
growls
Bellairs
,
who
finds
it
not
impossible
to
combine
a
poignant
interest
in
Sarah
with
a
servile
moth-and-candle-like
homage
to
the
elder
and
severer
beauty
;
"
so
would
you
be
,
if
you
were
married
to
an
old
mummy
!
"
CHAPTER
III
.
And
what
was
it
Mrs.
Forth
saw
over
Bellairs
'
shoulder
?
What
is
the
sight
that
,
now
that
the
temporary
call
upon
her
attention
is
withdrawn
,
is
riveting
into
such
an
agony
of
search
the
lovely
cold
eyes
,
to
which
so
few
things
seem
worth
looking
at
?
Fortunately
for
her
,
a
new
batch
of
under-graduates
has
hurried
up
to
be
presented
to
Sarah
.
Never
since
the
days
of
Dresden
and
the
German
army
has
Miss
Churchill
had
her
hands
so
full
.
Belinda
is
free
to
send
her
gaze
unnoticed
round
the
hall
,
in
a
silent
,
breathless
,
passionate
quest
.
Quest
of
what
?
She
does
not
ask
herself
how
much
the
better
off
she
will
be
if
she
succeeds
in
finding
the
object
of
that
quest
.
To
find
it
!
to
find
it
!
Come
what
may
of
the
finding
,
to
find
it
!
Most
people
would
feel
sure
that
she
has
been
deceived
by
an
accidental
resemblance
to
Rivers
in
some
stranger
;
men
of
his
size
,
complexion
and
bearing
being
,
though
unhappily
in
a
minority
,
yet
still
numerous
among
two
thousand
youths
of
the
English
upper
classes
.
But
Belinda
would
laugh
to
scorn
the
suggestion
that
at
any
distance
,
or
in
any
glimpse
however
momentary
,
she
could
have
mistaken
any
other
for
him
.
There
exists
in
her
mind
no
smallest
doubt
that
the
face
seen
in
that
one
lightning-flash
,
and
then
instantly
hidden
by
twenty
other
intervening
faces
,
was
his
—
his
or
his
angle
's
!
Perhaps
he
is
dead
,
and
that
he
has
come
to
tell
her
.
A
mute
sob
rises
in
her
throat
.
Whether
in
the
spirit
or
the
body
,
she
must
find
him
!
At
intervals
of
every
few
minutes
she
is
interrupted
in
her
search
by
the
greetings
and
observations
of
passing
acquaintances
.
She
answers
them
politely
and
connectedly
,
but
with
a
brevity
that
does
not
encourage
a
prolongation
of
their
civilities
;
a
brevity
that
will
the
sooner
leave
her
free
.
The
room
is
thinner
than
it
was
,
or
rather
the
crowd
is
distributed
more
evenly
over
its
whole
area
.
Since
the
suppertables
sprang
into
sight
—
even
loyalty
giving
the
pas
to
hunger
;
the
uncertain
hope
of
a
bow
from
the
Duke
,
to
the
sober
certainty
of
lobster-salad
—
the
packing
about
H.R.H.
is
less
dense
.
The
guests
are
extended
along
the
line
of
tables
.
Of
Sarah
,
indeed
,
scarcely
a
vestige
is
to
be
seen
,
so
closely
is
she
hedged
in
by
a
wall
of
boys
.
At
something
she
has
just
said
they
all
laugh
rapturously
;
those
who
did
not
hear
it
—
so
firmly
assured
already
in
her
character
as
a
wit
—
as
well
as
those
who
did
.
The
signalman
's
biographer
has
descended
from
his
estrade
,
and
is
talking
as
commonplacely
to
his
hostess
as
if
he
wotted
nothing
of
parental
agonies
or
points
,
and
as
if
the
rosy
babe
had
been
sent
to
bed
with
the
whipping
it
deserved
.
Through
the
slackening
of
the
press
it
has
surely
become
easier
for
one
seeking
to
discover
the
person
sought
;
and
yet
for
a
while
she
seeks
in
vain
.
How
many
heads
there
are
!
heads
bald
as
Cæsar
's
;
heads
thickly
clad
as
Absolom
's
;
heads
white
,
heads
brown
;
sandy
heads
,
pepper
and
salt
heads
,
gold
heads
;
long
heads
,
round
heads
,
knobby
heads
!
And
how
they
shift
and
move
!
Will
they
never
stay
quiet
for
a
moment
?
And
among
them
all
he
is
not
!
He
must
have
gone
—
gone
without
ever
conjecturing
her
nearness
!
Again
that
mute
sob
rises
chokingly
.
Why
should
he
not
be
gone
?
Why
should
she
wish
that
he
were
not
gone
?
Why
should
she
wish
to
see
him
?
What
has
she
to
say
to
him
when
they
meet
?
But
she
pushes
roughly
aside
Reason
's
cool
pleading
.
Why
does
she
wish
it
?
Why
—
why
?
There
may
be
no
why
,
but
she
does
wish
it
;
wishes
it
with
such
a
compelling
frenzy
of
wishing
,
as
seems
as
if
it
must
produce
the
fulfilment
of
that
wish
.
And
it
does
.
Its
might
prevails
.
Ah
—
h
—
h
!
For
in
a
moment
she
has
seen
him
again
.
He
is
nearer
now
;
so
near
as
to
be
recognizable
past
mistake
or
misgiving
,
even
by
eyes
less
acquainted
than
hers
with
every
trick
of
lip
and
brow
.
If
he
continues
to
advance
in
the
direction
at
present
taken
by
his
steps
,
it
is
impossible
but
that
in
one
minute
or
less
—
in
perhaps
fifty
seconds
,
perhaps
forty
—
she
will
come
within
the
range
of
his
vision
.
He
will
be
aware
of
her
as
she
is
aware
of
him
.
"
Are
you
ready
to
go
home
?
"
says
a
voice
at
her
elbow
.
She
turns
suddenly
;
eyes
alight
,
and
heart
madly
bounding
,
to
find
her
husband
at
her
elbow
.
The
revulsion
is
so
hideous
that
speech
wholly
fails
her
.
"
I
should
be
obliged
if
you
would
tell
me
where
I
am
likely
to
find
your
sister
,
"
he
continues
,
taking
her
silence
for
assent
,
since
she
is
never
very
prodigal
of
her
words
to
him
;
"
so
that
I
may
let
her
know
that
we
are
going
.
"
But
at
that
she
finds
voice
.
"
Going
!
"
she
says
,
flashing
one
look
of
passionate
dissent
at
him
.
"
Why
should
we
go
?
Impossible
!
"
"
I
see
no
impossibility
,
"
he
answers
captiously
;
"
we
have
already
amply
satisfied
the
claims
of
civility
.
The
impossibility
,
as
you
are
perfectly
aware
,
lies
in
combining
such
late
hours
with
early
rising
in
the
morning
.
"
"
Then
why
should
you
rise
early
?
"
answers
she
,
with
tremulous
rebellion
.
"
It
is
no
use
talking
—
I
cannot
come
away
.
You
forget
Sarah
;
it
—
it
would
not
be
fair
upon
Sarah
;
I
have
neither
the
wish
nor
the
right
to
spoil
her
enjoyment
.
"
"
I
should
imagine
that
nothing
would
be
easier
than
to
find
a
chaperon
in
whose
charge
to
leave
her
,
"
rejoins
he
persistently
;
"
if
indeed
,
"
with
a
slightly
venomous
look
in
the
direction
of
his
sister-in-law
,
"
she
considers
one
necessary
.
"
But
Belinda
only
observes
a
silence
which
he
divines
to
be
mutinous
.
He
is
accustomed
in
her
to
sullen
compliance
,
uncheerful
acquiescence
,
loth
obedience
;
but
to
open
revolt
he
is
not
accustomed
,
and
,
on
the
spur
of
the
moment
,
and
in
so
public
a
place
,
he
is
not
prepared
to
deal
with
it
.
"
Since
you
manifest
such
an
avidity
in
the
pursuit
of
pleasure
,
"
he
says
resentfully
,
"
I
will
indulge
you
with
another
half-hour
,
at
the
end
of
which
time
I
must
beg
that
you
and
your
sister
will
be
prepared
to
accompany
me
without
further
remonstrance
.
"
He
does
not
await
the
answer
,
which
perhaps
he
knows
he
would
not
receive
;
but
turns
on
his
heel
and
leaves
her
—
leaves
her
free
to
pursue
that
feverish
search
which
his
coming
had
so
rudely
interrupted
.
It
is
some
moments
before
she
again
finds
the
object
of
that
search
;
moments
long
enough
for
her
to
tell
herself
in
heart
bitterness
that
she
has
pushed
against
her
fate
in
vain
.
But
then
,
all
in
a
moment
,
she
has
found
him
again
.
He
is
further
off
,
indeed
,
than
he
was
:
some
trifle
must
have
diverted
his
steps
from
the
direction
then
pursued
by
them
;
and
he
is
still
,
in
his
unconsciousness
,
slowly
widening
the
distance
between
them
.
Is
it
possible
that
he
is
tending
towards
the
door
?
that
she
,
unable
by
word
or
sign
to
arrest
him
,
will
see
him
go
?
Oh
,
but
life
is
a
hard
thing
!
Knowing
as
she
does
that
at
one
lightest
cry
from
her
he
would
turn
;
to
be
no
more
able
to
utter
that
cry
than
if
a
real
material
gag
were
choking
her
utterances
!
Can
it
be
,
then
,
that
her
soul
's
cry
has
reached
his
soul
's
ears
?
for
he
does
turn
suddenly
and
smiling
.
Has
he
seen
her
,
that
he
smiles
?
Ah
no
!
Would
he
indeed
smile
if
he
saw
her
?
She
has
not
given
him
much
cause
to
smile
at
the
sight
of
her
.
Well
,
he
is
wise
.
He
has
again
averted
his
look
.
And
the
half-hour
,
the
inexorable
half-hour
is
passing
!
How
much
of
it
has
already
gone
?
Ten
minutes
,
at
least
,
must
by
this
time
have
passed
.
There
are
only
twenty
minutes
for
hope
to
work
upon
.
Twenty
minutes
!
—
and
then
the
close
fly
,
the
Early
English
Villa
,
Professor
Forth
,
and
the
Fragments
of
Menander
!
To
the
end
of
time
Professor
Forth
,
and
the
Fragments
of
Menander
!
Again
her
thoughts
are
broken
in
upon
by
a
voice
—
Sarah
's
this
time
;
Sarah
having
shaken
herself
free
of
her
disciples
;
Sarah
with
a
solicitous
look
and
an
anxious
eye
.
"
I
think
it
best
to
tell
you
,
"
she
says
hurriedly
,
and
narrowly
watching
the
effect
of
her
words
upon
her
sister
's
face
;
"
I
was
afraid
lest
you
might
hear
it
suddenly
from
some
one
else
—
some
stranger
.
I
suppose
you
have
not
seen
him
yet
,
but
he
is
here
!
"
"
I
know
it
,
"
answers
Belinda
shortly
,
and
very
low
.
"
You
—
you
are
not
going
to
faint
?
"
"
Faint
!
why
should
I
faint
?
"
with
an
accent
of
intense
impatience
,
her
eyes
still
riveted
on
the
now
again
approaching
figure
;
"
do
I
ever
faint
?
"
"
Would
you
like
to
go
home
?
"
"
Go
home
!
"
echoes
Belinda
,
in
an
accent
of
fierce
desperation
;
"
why
do
you
all
sing
the
same
song
?
why
are
you
all
determined
that
I
must
go
home
?
"
"
I
thought
you
would
wish
it
,
"
replies
Sarah
anxiously
.
"
I
should
if
I
were
in
your
place
.
Do
not
you
think
it
would
be
better
?
"
But
she
speaks
to
deaf
ears
.
Her
eyes
,
still
fastened
on
her
sister
's
face
,
see
that
face
's
lilies
suddenly
dyed
with
a
most
happy
and
loveliest
flush
.
The
sun
has
risen
:
he
has
touched
the
sunless
snow
on
the
Jungfrau
's
crest
,
and
all
the
world
is
rosy
red
.
So
then
he
has
seen
her
!
There
is
now
no
longer
any
fear
of
his
departing
unintentionally
ignorant
of
her
neighbourhood
.
There
is
indeed
time
for
one
short
pang
of
alarm
lest
he
should
do
what
in
her
heart
she
knows
if
he
were
wise
he
would
do
—
and
who
knows
how
much
of
wisdom
these
two
years
may
have
lent
him
?
—
turn
away
,
and
knowingly
avoid
her
!
But
apparently
he
is
not
wise
.
In
a
moment
he
has
pierced
the
small
portion
of
crowd
that
still
separates
them
;
pierced
it
with
a
goodwill
that
would
not
have
disgraced
Miss
Watson
.
She
has
one
instant
of
such
blissful
anticipation
—
only
a
thousandfold
intensified
—
as
used
to
be
hers
in
the
Lüttichau
Strasse
,
at
the
sound
of
Tommy
's
childish
foot
pattering
up
the
stone
stairs
,
and
her
love
's
firm
and
eager
tread
behind
it
.
The
next
moment
they
have
met
.
Their
unfamiliar
right
hands
lie
in
one
another
;
and
they
say
—
nothing
.
Of
what
use
to
have
mesmerized
him
hither
by
her
eyes
,
and
the
insanity
of
her
voiceless
prayers
,
if
she
have
nothing
to
say
to
him
now
that
he
has
come
?
But
happily
,
though
she
and
he
are
speecheless
,
Sarah
is
not
.
"
So
it
is
you
,
is
it
?
"
she
says
in
a
dry
voice
.
"
Now
what
eccentric
wind
has
blown
you
here
?
"
He
does
not
answer
at
once
.
Evidently
,
as
of
old
,
he
has
forgotten
her
presence
.
"
I
see
that
you
still
have
your
old
trick
of
not
answering
me
,
"
pursues
she
,
running
quickly
on
with
a
fightiness
that
conceals
a
good
deal
of
real
nervousness
;
"
but
never
mind
:
there
'
are
places
where
I
also
am
admired
,
'
as
Goldsmith
said
.
Belinda
,
do
you
know
that
twenty-five
young
gentlemen
of
different
colleges
are
going
to
be
so
good
as
to
call
upon
you
between
the
hours
of
three
and
seven
to-morrow
?
"
Belinda
is
struggling
to
rouse
herself
out
of
her
intoxication
;
already
so
far
unintoxicated
as
to
know
that
it
is
intoxication
.
"
Are
they
?
"
she
says
,
with
a
weakly
laugh
;
"
I
am
sure
that
I
am
very
much
obliged
to
them
.
"
"
And
meanwhile
what
has
brought
you
here
?
"
asks
Sarah
persistently
,
carrying
on
her
determined
talk
as
a
shield
to
her
sister
's
emotion
.
Her
speech
has
the
effect
of
making
Rivers
,
too
,
put
down
the
wine-cup
;
of
bringing
him
also
back
to
the
bald
,
sober
,
morning
prose
of
life
.
"
I
have
come
to
take
my
degree
,
"
he
answers
;
"
I
have
been
prevented
by
—
by
circumstances
from
taking
it
before
.
"
So
now
she
has
heard
his
voice
!
To
have
touched
his
hand
;
to
have
met
his
eye
;
to
have
heard
his
speech
!
Is
not
this
to
have
had
her
wish
?
Surely
now
she
is
content
.
Surely
now
she
will
go
home
at
ease
and
satisfied
.
But
who
was
ever
satisfied
with
one
wish
?
What
wish
ever
died
barren
,
without
engendering
a
hundred
more
?
"
The
half-hour
is
expired
!
"
says
a
voice
.
The
Dresden
quartette
is
complete
.
Perhaps
it
is
this
thought
that
,
rushing
simultaneously
into
three
out
of
the
four
minds
,
strikes
them
momentarily
mute
.
Sarah
is
,
of
course
,
the
first
to
recover
herself
.
"
What
a
mysterious
utterance
!
"
she
says
,
with
rather
a
forced
gaiety
;
"
what
half-hour
?
any
particular
half-hour
?
You
remember
Mr.
Rivers
,
do
not
you
?
Mr.
Rivers
,
you
know
Mr.
Forth
,
my
—
my
brother-in-law
?
"
There
is
a
slight
unintentional
hesitation
before
pronouncing
,
and
a
perhaps
intentional
slight
stress
in
pronouncing
,
the
last
word
.
Rivers
has
stepped
back
a
pace
or
two
,
isolating
himself
from
the
augmented
group
;
but
at
this
summons
he
again
advances
,
and
,
except
by
the
two
signs
of
a
sheet-white
face
and
set
teeth
,
is
not
to
be
distinguished
from
any
other
well-mannered
young
man
making
a
bow
.
But
the
Professor
would
be
slow
indeed
to
mark
the
hue
of
any
undergraduate
's
,
or
ex-undergraduate
's
face
,
or
to
note
whether
his
mouth
were
open
or
shut
.
"
The
fly
is
waiting
,
"
he
says
,
returning
Rivers
's
salutation
with
cursory
indifference
.
"
Belinda
,
I
must
beg
you
to
accompany
me
at
once
,
and
not
keep
it
waiting
.
"
As
he
speaks
,
he
looks
at
his
wife
,
as
one
expecting
and
braced
for
fresh
rebellion
.
But
he
meets
with
none
.
"
Come
along
!
"
cries
Sarah
with
alacrity
;
"
we
are
quite
ready
,
are
not
we
,
Belinda
?
Enough
is
as
good
as
a
feast
;
and
we
have
supped
full
of
pleasure
.
Good-bye
!
"
nodding
with
cool
friendliness
over
her
shoulder
,
and
taking
her
sister
's
hand
.
Belinda
offers
no
resistance
;
flaccidly
she
complies
,
and
without
one
look
at
Rivers
,
with
only
a
faint
bend
of
her
head
in
his
direction
,
begins
to
follow
the
Professor
of
Etruscan
out
of
the
room
.
Rivers
stands
stupidly
looking
after
them
.
The
tart
imperativeness
of
her
husband
's
tone
;
his
employment
of
her
Christian
name
;
her
own
dull
docility
—
which
of
these
is
it
that
makes
him
feel
as
if
some
one
had
given
him
a
great
blow
over
the
head
with
a
club
?
Presently
he
begins
,
mechanically
and
purposelessly
,
to
follow
them
.
The
crowd
is
thick
at
the
entrance
and
on
the
stone
stairs
—
the
departing
crowd
.
The
quadrangle
is
full
of
vehicles
.
Footmen
are
few
in
Oxbridge
;
but
such
as
there
are
,
are
shouting
their
mistresses
'
carriages
:
the
humbler
multitude
are
pushing
,
asking
,
struggling
for
their
flies
.
Lucky
ones
are
finding
them
and
driving
off
:
unlucky
ones
are
vainly
striving
to
identify
horse
or
driver
.
Among
the
latter
are
the
Forths
.
In
coming
out
,
they
have
been
parted
by
the
press
—
that
is
to
say
,
the
sisters
have
lost
each
other
—
the
younger
loitering
in
injudicious
dalliance
with
some
of
her
new
sweethearts
;
the
elder
plodding
on
in
dull
and
woolly
oblivion
of
all
but
the
iron
necessity
of
following
that
cap
and
gown
ahead
of
her
.
It
is
not
till
the
elusive
fly
is
at
length
found
—
till
her
foot
is
on
the
step
,
and
Professor
Forth
is
sharply
urging
her
in
by
the
elbow
from
behind
,
that
she
becomes
aware
of
having
mislaid
her
junior
.
"
Get
in
—
get
in
!
"
cries
he
crossly
;
"
what
are
you
waiting
for
?
"
"
But
Sarah
!
"
she
says
,
awaking
from
her
unconsciousness
and
looking
hastily
round
;
"
what
has
become
of
Sarah
?
we
cannot
go
without
Sarah
!
"
He
makes
an
irritated
gesture
.
"
No
doubt
she
has
joined
some
other
party
;
no
doubt
she
will
do
very
well
:
at
all
events
,
in
this
confusion
it
is
impossible
to
attempt
to
find
her
!
"
"
It
is
much
more
impossible
to
go
without
her
!
"
replies
she
firmly
,
withdrawing
her
foot
from
the
step
;
"
I
wonder
that
you
should
propose
such
a
thing
!
"
"
She
is
perfectly
well
able
to
take
care
of
herself
!
"
retorts
he
,
recurring
to
his
old
and
spiteful
formula
;
"
she
will
find
her
own
way
home
!
"
"
Then
I
will
find
my
own
way
home
,
too
!
"
answers
she
indignantly
,
and
resolutely
turning
her
back
upon
him
and
the
open
fly-door
.
She
is
too
indignant
even
to
deign
to
observe
whether
he
takes
her
at
her
word
.
The
crowd
is
still
issuing
,
issuing
;
crossing
the
moonlit
square
on
foot
;
nodding
good-night
out
of
carriage
windows
;
away
they
go
!
She
retraces
her
steps
to
the
stair-foot
.
It
is
not
pleasant
work
pushing
against
a
human
tide
;
and
so
she
finds
.
It
is
bewildering
to
be
staring
into
every
face
;
peering
under
all
the
hoods
and
mufflers
.
And
among
all
the
faces
,
under
all
the
hoods
and
mufflers
,
is
no
Sarah
to
be
found
.
It
is
obvious
that
the
Professor
is
right
.
She
has
found
her
own
way
home
.
The
company
is
melting
away
so
rapidly
that
,
unless
she
wishes
to
be
shut
into
the
college
for
the
night
,
she
must
needs
follow
her
example
.
Well
!
there
is
no
great
hardship
in
that
!
She
is
in
the
mood
when
the
abnormal
,
the
unusal
,
seems
more
tolerable
to
her
than
the
accustomed
,
the
everyday
.
Half
an
hour
of
solitude
and
midnight
!
Half
an
hour
in
which
to
be
Belinda
only
—
not
Belinda
Forth
at
all
!
Half
an
hour
in
which
to
reckon
with
this
night
and
its
work
!
She
has
already
made
half
a
dozen
steps
along
the
stone
flags
of
the
quadrangle
,
when
some
one
comes
up
behind
her
.
Had
she
known
that
he
would
come
up
behind
her
,
that
she
makes
no
sign
of
surprise
,
nor
any
pause
in
her
walk
?
"
You
are
alone
?
"
he
says
with
agitation
.
"
It
seems
so
,
"
she
answers
.
It
is
the
same
dry
voice
with
which
she
had
so
often
galled
and
chilled
him
at
Dresden
.
"
You
have
lost
your
—
your
party
?
"
"
I
have
lost
Sarah
.
"
"
And
your
—
and
Professor
Forth
?
"
"
He
could
not
wait
,
and
I
could
not
go
without
Sarah
.
"
"
And
he
has
left
you
behind
—
alone
?
"
She
is
silent
,
still
speeding
along
in
the
moonlight
.
"
And
how
do
you
propose
to
get
home
?
"
he
asks
,
keeping
up
with
and
determinately
addressing
her
.
"
I
am
getting
home
as
fast
as
I
can
.
"
"
You
mean
to
walk
?
"
"
It
looks
like
it
.
"
Her
tone
is
brusque
and
dogged
;
but
if
she
hopes
by
its
means
to
rid
herself
of
her
companion
she
is
mistaken
.
"
In
evening
dress
?
"
"
Pooh
!
"
she
says
,
with
a
hard
laugh
;
"
we
are
not
so
fastidious
here
,
nous
autres
;
I
walk
out
to
dinner
every
night
of
my
life
!
"
"
But
not
alone
?
"
Her
face
darkens
.
"
No
,
not
alone
.
"
They
have
reached
the
gateway
and
Wren
's
domey
tower
.
She
has
stopped
in
her
resolute
walk
;
but
in
the
stopping
there
is
as
much
resolution
as
there
was
in
the
hurrying
.
"
Here
we
part
,
"
she
says
shortly
;
"
good-night
!
"
"
You
must
allow
me
to
see
you
home
,
"
he
answers
firmly
.
"
I
have
already
told
you
that
it
is
absolutely
unnecessary
,
"
retorts
she
roughly
.
There
is
an
instant
's
interval
before
his
rejoinder
.
They
are
putting
out
the
lights
in
the
hall
;
the
great
building
is
greedily
devouring
half
the
moonlight
in
the
quad
,
with
its
raven
shadow
.
It
has
embraced
the
fountain
in
the
middle
.
It
is
not
much
of
a
fountain
,
but
how
pleasantly
its
little
voice
pierces
through
the
noise
of
rolling
wheels
and
human
shoutings
.
For
how
many
centuries
could
she
gladly
stand
here
listening
to
it
!
"
You
must
allow
me
!
"
with
perfect
respect
,
but
obstinately
.
"
I
must
not
!
"
Is
the
night-wind
heady
,
like
wine
?
Her
tone
changes
to
one
that
is
almost
entreaty
.
"
I
had
rather
you
did
not
;
I
ask
you
not
!
"
Her
incivilities
had
left
him
iron
;
to
her
pleading
he
is
as
wax
.
"
It
shall
be
as
you
wish
,
"
he
says
,
gravely
bowing
.
There
is
nothing
now
to
detain
her
,
and
yet
she
lingers
an
instant
,
as
though
expecting
him
to
say
something
more
.
But
he
adds
nothing
.
She
turns
out
of
the
gateway
and
into
the
street
,
and
walks
fast
and
steadily
up
it
.
There
are
not
many
towns
through
which
it
would
be
judicious
for
a
young
and
solitary
woman
to
take
her
way
,
bare-headed
and
in
flimsy
ball-gown
,
at
midnight
;
but
about
Oxbridge
,
Una
,
without
her
lion
,
might
have
strayed
unassailed
from
sunset
to
sunrise
.
Involuntarily
she
slackens
her
speed
a
little
,
from
the
almost
run
with
which
she
had
begun
her
course
,
though
still
keeping
at
a
moderately
rapid
walk
.
What
cause
is
there
for
hurry
?
There
is
nothing
now
to
hasten
from
;
and
Heaven
knows
there
is
nothing
to
hasten
to
!
She
did
well
to
be
peremptory
;
but
,
after
all
,
he
was
not
very
much
in
earnest
;
he
did
not
press
the
point
.
It
is
much
better
that
it
should
be
so
;
but
still
,
as
a
mere
matter-of-fact
,
he
did
not
.
She
looks
up
at
the
sky
,
which
is
spreading
out
the
jewels
it
has
kept
hidden
through
the
staring
day
,
spreading
them
out
for
"
The
fair
city
with
her
dreaming
spires
,
"
to
look
up
at
and
admire
;
all
its
bright
belts
and
bears
;
its
gods
and
goddesses
.
Then
she
looks
suddenly
round
.
There
are
still
a
good
many
people
about
,
but
no
undergraduates
;
for
the
University
mother
has
gathered
her
curled
darlings
to
her
bosom
for
the
night
.
The
man
,
then
,
who
is
keeping
pace
with
her
,
footstep
for
footstep
,
twenty
yards
behind
,
is
no
undergraduate
.
She
redoubles
her
speed
again
.
Pooh
!
his
presence
has
no
reference
to
her
.
He
is
only
taking
the
natural
road
to
his
hotel
.
But
she
does
not
look
round
again
until
the
more
bustling
streets
lie
behind
her
;
until
she
has
reached
the
broad
still
thoroughfare
where
a
range
of
grey
colleges
and
a
row
of
sentinel
elms
hold
quiet
converse
with
the
stars
.
Then
,
as
if
the
muscles
of
her
neck
had
been
moved
by
some
one
else
,
she
not
consenting
,
once
again
she
turns
her
head
.
The
hotels
are
long
passed
.
If
he
is
still
following
,
it
is
she
whom
he
is
following
.
And
lo
!
twenty
yards
behind
her
,
there
he
is
,
stepping
through
the
moonlight
!
She
gives
a
low
,
excited
laugh
.
Well
,
they
have
both
had
their
will
then
:
he
has
not
walked
home
with
her
;
she
has
not
walked
home
alone
.
It
is
a
compromise
.
Again
she
looks
up
to
the
heavens
.
What
a
lovely
,
lovely
vault
!
What
seed-pearl
of
constellations
!
What
great
planet-diamonds
!
The
clocks
have
just
beun
to
strike
midnight
;
the
city
's
innumerous
clocks
,
cathedral
,
college
,
church
;
the
booming
bell
,
the
sharp
strike
,
the
melodious
chime
!
How
nobly
their
loud
wedded
harmony
floods
the
night
!
And
is
there
one
of
the
gardens
—
she
has
reached
the
suburb
of
villas
and
gardens
by
this
time
—
that
has
not
contributed
the
breath
of
its
gillyflowers
to
make
the
boon
air
so
sweet
?
She
walks
on
with
her
strong
elastic
tread
.
After
all
,
it
is
good
to
be
young
:
to
have
a
fine
ear
for
sound
;
a
nostril
sensitive
to
fragrance
;
and
—
the
consciousness
that
behind
you
there
is
one
protecting
you
where
there
is
nothing
to
be
protected
from
—
guarding
you
where
there
is
nothing
to
be
guarded
against
.
She
has
reached
her
own
gate
,
and
at
it
halts
,
her
hand
upon
the
latch
.
Here
surely
,
under
the
ægis
of
her
own
roof-tree
—
here
,
where
that
twinkling
night-light
shows
the
exact
spot
where
her
husband
is
addressing
himself
to
his
slumbers
—
she
may
abate
a
little
of
her
rigidity
.
Seeing
her
arrived
,
he
too
has
halted
;
nor
is
it
until
by
a
faint
motion
of
her
hand
she
gives
him
leave
to
approach
,
that
he
ventures
to
draw
near
her
.
"
Thank
you
!
"
she
says
with
a
smile
,
to
which
it
is
perhaps
the
moonlight
that
lends
its
quivering
uncertainty
;
"
but
it
was
not
necessary
.
"
He
neither
disclaims
nor
accepts
her
acknowledgments
.
Gravely
he
unfastens
the
iron
gate
for
her
;
while
above
his
gold
head
the
laburnum
droops
her
gold
curls
.
The
moon
has
taken
their
colour
out
of
both
,
and
substituted
her
own
.
Is
he
then
still
going
to
say
nothing
?
But
as
she
passes
through
,
he
speaks
:
"
I
—
I
—
am
not
leaving
Oxbridge
to-morrow
.
I
shall
be
in
Oxbridge
all
to-morrow
.
"
"
Shall
you
?
"
she
says
faintly
.
"
I
have
not
done
anything
to
forfeit
your
friendship
,
have
I
?
"
he
asks
,
while
in
the
moonlight
she
sees
his
right
hand
tighten
its
nervous
clasp
on
one
of
the
spiked
iron
uprights
of
the
gate
.
She
is
quite
silent
.
"
Have
I
?
"
he
repeats
,
in
a
tone
as
of
one
who
,
though
patient
,
will
not
go
without
his
answer
.
(
Is
truth
always
the
best
to
be
spoken
?
Then
let
it
be
spoken
!
)
"
Nothing
!
"
"
Is
there
then
any
reason
why
I
should
not
come
and
see
you
to-morrow
?
"
Silence
again
;
her
look
wandering
undecidedly
over
her
flower-bed
.
"
Is
there
?
"
Her
eye
has
caught
the
Professor
's
night-light
again
—
that
ill-favoured
Jack-o'-Lantern
that
is
to
dance
for
ever
across
the
morass
of
her
life
.
"
None
!
"
she
answers
firmly
;
and
with
that
firm
"
None
!
"
she
leaves
him
.
CHAPTER
IV
.
"
He
was
not
far
wrong
,
"
says
Sarah
dispassionately
,
"
though
I
am
afraid
that
it
was
scarcely
in
a
brotherly
