!"
At
that
she
smiles
subtilely
.
"
How
,
in
Heaven
's
name
,
have
you
managed
to
make
me
so
much
afraid
of
you
?
"
continues
the
lad
,
with
gathering
agitation
.
"
You
are
never
rude
;
you
are
not
sarcastic
;
nothing
makes
you
angry
;
you
speak
most
softly
;
and
yet
—
"
"
And
yet
,
"
she
says
,
finishing
his
sentence
for
him
with
a
rather
bitter
smile
,
"
and
yet
you
shake
in
your
shoes
before
me
!
I
know
you
all
do
.
Ever
since
I
grew
up
—
nay
,
before
;
I
think
that
at
fourteen
I
began
to
inspire
dread
—
I
have
always
been
hearing
how
frightened
people
are
of
me
.
It
is
so
pleasant
!
No
doubt
you
had
been
told
it
before
you
came
to
know
me
,
had
not
you
?
"
In
the
eagerness
of
that
query
she
has
stopped
and
faced
him
,
the
colour
hurrying
up
to
her
cheeks
,
and
her
eyes
fastened
in
imperative
asking
on
his
.
He
does
not
answer
for
a
moment
.
He
is
dizzily
marvelling
whether
blood
of
so
wondrous
a
tint
had
ever
flooded
lily
cheek
before
.
She
repeats
her
question
with
emphasis
:
"
Had
not
you
?
"
"
I
—
I
—
had
heard
that
you
snubbed
people
!
"
"
Have
you
found
it
true
?
"
she
says
,
in
a
low
and
rather
anxious
voice
.
"
Have
I
—
have
I
—
"
hesitating
,
"
snubbed
you
?
"
To
this
question
she
has
honestly
expected
a
reply
in
the
negative
,
and
is
proportionately
startled
by
the
virile
energy
of
the
affirmative
that
instead
follows
.
"
That
you
have
—
times
out
of
mind
!
"
"
Have
I
?
"
she
says
,
in
a
key
of
genuine
bewilderment
.
"
How
?
when
?
where
?
What
is
it
that
I
do
?
"
He
does
not
answer
.
"
Is
it
,
"
she
goes
on
diffidently
,
Sarah
's
dictum
as
to
the
one
unforgivable
sin
committible
by
women
against
men
flashing
across
her
mind
,
sinister
and
appropriate
—
"
is
it
that
I
make
you
feel
small
?
"
"
Small
!
Yes
,
"
assents
he
,
with
pungent
emphasis
;
"
I
should
think
you
did
!
invisibly
,
imperceptibly
small
.
But
that
is
not
the
worst
.
I
was
prepared
for
that
.
I
had
heard
it
was
your
way
!
"
She
laughs
grimly
.
"
What
a
pleasant
way
!
"
"
There
are
days
on
which
—
I
do
not
know
how
you
do
it
—
you
make
me
feel
as
aloof
from
you
as
if
—
"
"
As
if
what
?
"
"
As
if
I
were
down
here
,
and
you
were
—
"
"
And
I
were
what
?
"
with
an
accent
of
sincere
and
puzzled
curiosity
.
"
And
you
were
—
and
you
were
—
one
of
the
heavenly
host
up
there
!
"
ends
the
young
man
,
baldly
and
stammering
.
But
love
is
no
brightener
of
the
wits
.
"
One
of
the
heavenly
host
?
"
repeats
she
,
justly
infuriate
at
this
stale
comparison
.
"
An
angel
,
in
short
!
Must
I
always
be
an
angle
,
or
a
goddess
?
If
anyone
knew
how
sick
I
am
of
being
a
goddess
!
I
declare
I
should
be
thankful
to
be
called
a
Fury
,
or
even
a
Ghoul
,
for
a
change
!
"
So
saying
,
she
turns
her
shoulder
peevishly
to
him
;
and
leaving
the
garden
,
begins
to
walk
quickly
along
the
road
by
the
water
,
as
if
to
make
up
for
her
late
loitering
.
He
keeps
pace
with
her
,
dumb
in
snubbed
contrition
,
stupefied
by
love
and
,
unhappily
for
himself
,
fully
conscious
of
it
;
burningly
aware
of
the
hopeless
flatness
of
his
last
simile
,
and
rendered
by
his
situation
quite
incapable
of
redeeming
it
by
any
brighter
sally
.
Presently
they
leave
the
water
and
all
its
rioting
wavelets
,
and
pace
through
the
fir-wood
towards
the
little
Schloss
—
the
big
one
's
quaint
baby-brother
.
Beneath
the
fir-trees
the
blue
hepaticas
flower
plentiful
and
late
,
and
the
young
stitchworts
open
their
fresh
eyes
to
the
spring
.
Regardless
of
ten-groschen
penalties
,
Belinda
leaves
the
road
,
and
stoops
to
pick
the
little
blossoms
.
Docilely
following
her
motions
,
he
stoops
and
picks
too
.
He
picks
to
more
purpose
than
she
,
indeed
;
for
when
,
by-and-by
,
they
straighten
themselves
again
and
compare
results
,
his
is
by
far
the
largest
nosegay
.
"
Will
you
take
them
?
"
he
says
,
timidly
proffering
them
,
for
her
tart
speech
has
robbed
him
of
his
last
barleycorn
of
courage
;
"
or
shall
I
—
shall
I
—
carry
them
for
you
?
"
What
would
not
he
carry
for
her
?
A
newspaper
parcel
down
St.
James
's
Street
;
a
bulging
carpet-bag
through
Rotten
Row
!
"
Thank
you
,
I
will
carry
them
myself
,
"
she
answers
,
stretching
out
her
pretty
,
bare
hand
for
them
.
"
They
shall
make
up
to
me
,
"
smiling
,
"
for
the
gardenias
of
which
I
was
deprived
by
—
an
accident
.
Do
you
know
that
I
was
not
allowed
even
to
smell
them
?
Did
not
I
bear
my
loss
like
a
Trojan
?
"
Then
,
hesitating
a
little
,
she
steps
a
pace
or
so
nearer
to
him
,
and
,
half
shyly
holding
out
her
own
little
bunch
,
"
Exchange
is
no
robbery
,
"
she
says
with
a
soft
look
.
"
Will
you
,
"
gently
mocking
his
frightened
tone
,
"
will
you
take
them
?
or
shall
I
—
shall
I
—
carry
them
for
you
?
"
He
makes
her
no
answer
;
he
is
quite
unable
.
The
tears
have
sprung
to
his
eyes
.
He
is
very
young
,
has
never
loved
before
;
and
it
seems
to
him
that
at
that
fair
hand
holding
out
its
little
blue
bunch
Heaven
opens
to
him
.
There
are
days
on
which
Heaven
opens
to
us
all
,
but
to
most
of
us
next
day
it
shuts
again
.
Above
them
the
pines
lay
their
dark
heads
stilly
together
against
the
fair
sky
,
that
looks
austere
,
yet
not
unkind
.
Here
the
loud
wind
is
kept
at
bay
,
and
whispers
scarcely
more
noisily
than
they
themselves
are
doing
in
their
safe
retreat
.
With
what
halting
words
of
lame
ecstasy
he
would
have
thanked
her
will
never
now
be
known
.
Dumbly
he
has
received
her
gift
,
refraining
,
by
what
iron
constraint
put
upon
himself
,
from
any
least
detention
of
those
cool
,
pale
fingers
that
just
unintentionally
touch
his
,
and
then
innocently
withdraw
.
The
labouring
syllables
that
are
struggling
to
his
lips
are
for
ever
driven
thence
by
the
sound
of
a
high-
pitched
young
voice
calling
clearly
through
the
still
wood
:
"
Where
are
you
?
What
has
become
of
you
?
We
have
been
searching
high
and
low
for
you
.
Have
you
been
searching
high
and
low
for
us
?
Ah
!
evidently
you
have
!
"
laughing
ironically
.
"
Well
,
now
you
have
had
the
good
fortune
to
find
us
!
"
Ere
the
end
of
this
sentence
,
Sarah
has
frisked
up
to
them
,
and
,
for
the
time
,
Heaven
's
door
shuts
in
their
faces
,
and
Earth
's
dull
portals
reopen
for
them
.
"
Are
you
aware
that
there
is
a
fine
of
ten
groschen
for
leaving
the
road
?
"
calls
out
the
Professor
from
the
distance
,
but
nobody
heeds
him
.
"
Are
you
picking
flowers
?
"
asks
Sarah
demurely
.
"
How
nice
!
Pick
me
some
.
"
Then
,
turning
to
Rivers
,
she
adds
maliciously
:
"
I
am
not
greedy
;
I
shall
be
quite
content
with
that
miserable
little
bunch
that
you
are
clutching
so
tightly
.
Give
it
me
!
"
But
at
that
he
finds
his
tongue
again
.
"
Not
if
you
were
to
go
down
on
your
knees
to
me
for
it
!
"
he
cries
tragically
,
lifting
his
right
hand
and
holding
his
poor
little
prize
high
above
her
restless
,
small
head
.
"
Not
if
I
were
to
go
down
on
my
knees
?
"
repeats
she
in
accents
of
the
deepest
incredulity
.
"
Come
,
that
is
trop
fort
!
It
is
worth
putting
to
the
test
.
"
As
she
speaks
,
she
sinks
at
once
upon
her
knees
on
the
crushed
herbage
,
and
,
joining
her
hands
as
in
prayer
,
looks
up
at
him
,
and
says
,
in
a
small
,
childish
voice
,
whose
alluring
properties
she
has
tested
on
many
a
hard-fought
field
,
"
Please
!
"
She
might
as
well
have
knelt
to
and
allured
one
of
the
solemn
straight
pines
.
He
does
not
even
avert
his
eyes
from
her
,
as
though
,
if
he
saw
her
,
he
must
yield
.
He
looks
her
full
in
the
face
,
and
says
doggedly
:
"
Not
if
you
knelt
there
till
the
Day
of
Judgment
!
"
"
What
are
you
about
,
Sarah
?
"
comes
the
Professor
's
voice
again
,
from
the
road
,
where
the
ten-groschen
penalty
still
keeps
him
.
"
Are
not
you
aware
that
although
the
grass
may
appear
dry
on
the
surface
,
the
ground
still
contains
a
great
deal
of
latent
moisture
!
"
But
a
second
time
he
speaks
to
the
wind
.
"
Not
if
I
knelt
here
till
the
Day
of
Judgment
?
"
repeats
Sarah
,
still
hardly
believing
her
own
ears
;
then
,
wisely
taking
the
only
course
left
open
to
her
,
with
as
good
a
grace
as
may
be
:
"
If
that
is
the
case
,
of
course
I
will
get
up
again
at
once
!
"
So
saying
she
rises
,
apparently
not
at
all
put
out
of
countenance
,
and
flicks
the
bits
of
grass
from
the
knees
that
had
bent
in
vain
.
"
Do
not
you
wish
to
see
the
King
's
boars
fed
?
I
understood
you
to
say
that
you
wished
to
see
the
King
's
boars
fed
!
"
shouts
the
Professor
,
striking
in
snappishly
the
third
time
,
the
contumely
with
which
his
remarks
have
been
treated
beginning
to
tell
very
perceptibly
upon
his
tone
.
"
The
King
's
boars
?
"
repeats
Sarah
,
sotto
voce
,
descending
to
a
degrading
pun
,
and
accompanying
it
with
a
wink
that
is
worthy
of
it
.
"
Do
you
think
the
King
has
room
for
one
more
in
his
menagerie
?
if
so
,
I
might
be
permitted
to
offer
him
mine
!
Yes
,
"
raising
her
voice
,
and
beginning
to
trip
back
towards
her
betrothed
,
"
of
course
we
are
coming
!
"
She
has
not
gone
two
steps
,
however
,
before
she
bethinks
herself
;
and
,
turning
back
,
tucks
her
arm
determinately
under
her
sister
's
.
"
Belinda
,
"
she
says
resolutely
,
"
you
have
not
seen
the
Little
Schloss
!
you
have
not
seen
the
lighthouse
!
you
have
not
seen
the
pheasantries
!
you
shall
see
the
boars
!
"
So
saying
she
sweeps
her
off
hurriedly
ahead
;
and
Rivers
,
cursing
fearfully
,
is
compelled
to
follow
with
the
Professor
,
with
whom
he
has
about
as
much
in
common
as
a
non-reading
,
hard-rowing
,
foot-balling
,
cricketing
undergraduate
mostly
has
with
an
exceptionally
stiff-backed
and
donnish
Don
.
Nor
is
the
Professor
,
whose
contempt
for
undergraduates
in
general
is
not
to
be
equalled
save
by
his
aversion
,
very
much
better
pleased
with
the
arrangement
.
However
,
it
does
not
last
long
.
A
few
minutes
of
brisk
walking
brings
them
to
the
clear
space
in
midwood
—
the
sandy
spot
railed
round
with
palings
where
his
Majesty
of
Saxony
's
pigs
have
their
daily
rations
dealt
out
to
them
.
There
the
girls
sit
down
on
the
wooden
bench
provided
for
the
accommodation
of
admiring
spectators
.
Many
dark
forms
have
already
arrived
,
and
are
rooting
and
grubbing
hither
and
thither
.
They
have
immensely
long
noses
,
long
dark
hair
large
dark
ears
;
hind-quarters
that
run
away
like
hyænas
,
and
a
general
air
of
absurdity
and
unpiglike
pigness
.
Amongst
them
are
several
fierce-looking
old
gentlemen
with
their
ugly
lips
lifted
over
formidable
tusks
,
shaggy
as
bears
,
and
with
their
long
grey
hair
wet
and
shiny
,
as
if
they
had
been
rolling
in
some
muddy
place
.
Every
moment
there
is
an
arrival
;
a
fresh
pig
,
two
fresh
pigs
emerging
from
the
wood
and
trotting
hastily
,
with
ears
anxiously
erect
,
to
the
rendezvous
,
afraid
of
having
arrived
too
late
.
About
the
whole
family
,
when
united
,
there
is
a
general
unamiability
;
a
spiteful
biting
and
nipping
at
each
other
;
a
squeaking
and
angrily
grunting
;
a
wrathful
pursuit
and
hasty
flight
.
The
little
piglets
,
tawny-coloured
and
striped
like
tiny
tigers
,
toddle
sweetly
about
in
their
artless
babyhood
.
Irresistibly
attracted
by
the
childlike
graces
of
one
of
these
latter
,
yet
smaller
,
more
striped
,
weirder
than
its
brethren
,
Sarah
has
run
after
it
,
and
is
now
scampering
in
pursuit
round
the
arena
.
The
Professor
,
relieved
at
having
found
a
sandy
spot
,
is
standing
,
stork-like
,
at
a
little
distance
off
,
poised
on
one
leg
,
and
cautiously
seeking
for
traces
of
moisture
on
the
sole
of
the
other
boot
.
Once
more
Rivers
and
Belinda
are
alone
.
"
I
will
be
the
death
of
her
!
"
says
the
boy
,
with
an
angry
smile
,
shaking
his
fist
in
the
direction
of
the
sportive
Sarah
.
But
apparently
the
latter
's
ears
are
nearly
as
long
as
those
of
the
objects
of
her
chase
.
"
Whom
will
you
be
the
death
of
?
"
she
cries
,
desisting
suddenly
.
"
The
mischief
is
in
the
pig
!
I
cannot
catch
it
;
and
I
am
sure
I
do
not
know
what
I
should
have
done
with
it
if
I
had
.
Well
,
"
having
by
this
time
come
up
to
them
again
,
"
of
whom
will
you
be
the
death
?
"
"
Of
you
,
"
replies
the
young
fellow
stoutly
,
though
in
his
heart
he
is
a
little
scared
at
the
unexpected
distance
to
which
his
threat
has
carried
.
"
Yes
,
of
you
,
"
looking
full
at
her
with
his
straightforward
,
handsome
,
angry
eyes
;
"
at
least
,
if
I
am
not
the
death
of
you
,
as
I
should
like
to
be
,
I
will
be
even
with
you
some
fine
day
—
see
if
I
am
not
!
"
She
looks
back
at
him
,
coolly
pondering
,
but
does
not
answer
.
A
flash
of
almost
compassionate
astonishment
is
darting
across
her
mind
that
any
man
in
the
possession
of
sight
,
health
,
and
vigour
—
any
man
,
more
especially
at
the
most
inflammable
of
all
ages
,
can
look
at
her
with
the
unsimulated
indifference
,
slightly
coloured
with
dislike
,
that
this
Rivers
is
doing
!
At
once
he
rises
in
her
esteem
.
Turning
away
,
she
walks
thoughtfully
back
to
the
pigs
.
By-and-by
,
as
through
the
long
,
light
evening
the
girls
bowl
smoothly
homewards
,
before
the
shy
white
stars
look
out
,
Sarah
suddenly
breaks
the
silence
that
,
for
several
quiet
miles
,
has
lain
upon
both
.
"
Belinda
!
"
she
says
abruptly
;
"
by
all
laws
,
human
and
divine
,
that
bouquet
was
yours
!
The
gardenias
are
now
the
colour
of
old
leather
,
and
smell
rather
nastily
than
otherwise
;
but
,
such
as
they
are
,
they
are
yours
!
"
And
even
on
these
terms
,
poor
Belinda
is
glad
and
thankful
to
have
her
nosegay
again
!
CHAPTER
V.
"
He
knew
whose
gentle
hand
was
at
the
latch
Before
the
door
had
given
her
to
his
eyes
;
And
from
her
chamber
window
he
would
catch
Her
beauty
farther
than
the
falcon
spies
.
And
constant
as
her
vespers
would
he
watch
,
Because
her
face
was
turned
to
the
same
skies
;
And
with
sick
longing
all
the
night
outwear
To
hear
her
morning
step
upon
the
stair
.
"
Upon
the
fair
town
of
Dresden
a
new
morning
has
opened
—
opened
in
sunshine
,
joy
,
and
lusty
growth
.
For
one
blossom-bunch
that
swung
fragilely
on
the
pear-tree
yesterday
,
there
are
twenty
to-day
.
The
slow
small
leaves
are
beginning
to
break
less
timorously
from
their
outgrown
sheaths
.
I
do
not
suppose
that
Belinda
can
have
grown
in
the
night
;
but
about
her
,
too
,
this
morning
there
is
a
look
of
expansion
and
spring
:
as
if
she
also
were
uncurling
her
leaves
and
disclosing
her
shy
buds
to
her
sun
.
The
two
girls
are
sitting
together
in
the
pretty
be-hyacinthed
,
be-china
'd
,
Anglicised
salon
that
looks
to
the
street
.
The
morning
sun
does
not
shine
on
that
side
of
the
house
,
and
it
makes
the
room
dark
;
but
so
it
is
,
that
all
the
blinds
are
drawn
to
the
bottom
;
nor
does
either
,
as
would
seem
natural
,
make
any
attempt
to
pull
them
up
again
.
"
So
you
never
did
it
after
all
yesterday
?
"
Belinda
is
saying
in
a
tone
of
disapproving
surprise
.
Sarah
shakes
her
head
.
"
No
;
Love
's
chain
still
binds
us
!
"
she
answers
,
making
a
face
.
"
You
will
do
it
to-day
?
"
"
No
!
"
"
To-morrow
?
"
"
I
think
not
.
"
"
The
day
after
?
"
"
It
is
improbable
.
"
"
If
you
are
waiting
,
"
says
Belinda
,
stopping
in
mid-row
of
the
stocking
she
is
knitting
to
look
severely
at
her
sister
,
and
speaking
with
an
extremely
clear
and
decided
accent
,
"
for
me
to
do
it
for
you
,
you
will
wait
,
as
I
told
you
yesterday
,
a
very
long
time
.
"
"
I
am
aware
of
it
,
"
replies
Sarah
calmly
.
"
Since
I
realised
that
you
are
engaged
in
a
little
pursuit
of
your
own
,
I
have
abandoned
the
idea
.
"
"
Pursuit
!
"
cries
Belinda
,
with
a
shocked
start
,
and
crimsoning
.
"
You
are
the
first
person
who
ever
dared
to
say
that
I
pursued
anyone
!
"
"
You
would
have
been
much
pleasanter
if
you
had
,
"
rejoins
Sarah
coolly
.
"
Well
,
do
not
let
us
quarrel
over
a
word
!
I
did
not
say
what
part
you
took
in
the
pursuit
—
whether
you
were
the
hunter
or
the
hare
!
"
But
Belinda
has
stooped
her
angry
,
blonde
head
over
her
stocking
,
and
is
speechlessly
knitting
her
resentment
into
it
.
"
After
all
,
"
says
Sarah
,
discourteously
jerking
the
slumbering
pug
off
the
sofa
,
and
throwing
herself
down
on
it
,
"
it
is
very
unselfish
of
me
.
Nobody
gives
me
the
credit
for
any
virtues
,
but
in
point
of
fact
it
is
almost
entirely
in
your
interest
that
I
am
acting
!
"
She
pauses
for
a
moment
,
expecting
to
be
asked
for
an
explanation
,
but
Belinda
deigns
no
syllable
.
"
Supposing
that
I
did
give
my
Solomon
the
sack
—
by-the-bye
,
what
a
neat
alliteration
!
Swinburne
might
have
made
it
,
"
continues
Sarah
,
yawning
—
"
what
would
become
of
me
during
all
those
rural
excursions
that
I
see
stretching
ahead
of
us
in
long
perspective
?
We
could
not
let
you
and
young
Rivers
set
off
upon
them
tête-à-tête
!
we
really
could
not
!
It
would
pass
even
Granny
's
and
my
latitude
!
I
search
the
horizon
in
vain
for
a
sail
!
—
I
mean
for
anyone
else
to
pair
off
with
!
My
life
would
be
spent
in
trying
to
look
the
other
way
,
and
in
intercepting
fond
glances
that
were
not
meant
for
me
!
"
"
And
so
,
"
says
Belinda
,
lifting
a
head
whose
cheeks
still
blaze
,
and
speaking
in
a
withering
voice
,
"
and
so
he
is
to
wriggle
on
the
hook
a
little
longer
?
How
much
longer
,
pray
?
"
"
How
much
longer
?
"
repeats
Sarah
,
with
a
malicious
look
;
"
why
,
you
can
answer
that
better
than
I
!
As
long
as
young
Rivers
wriggles
on
yours
!
"
Belinda
winces
.
Who
—
high-strung
and
palpitating
in
young
love
's
first
ecstasy
—
would
not
wince
at
such
a
phrase
?
"
Come
,
now
,
"
says
Sarah
,
sliding
off
the
sofa
again
,
assuming
her
cajoling
voice
,
and
sitting
down
on
the
parquet
at
her
sister
's
feet
,
"
tell
me
a
little
about
him
!
I
have
confided
to
you
so
many
touching
traits
about
my
beloved
,
and
if
you
are
good
I
will
tell
you
plenty
more
;
but
confidence
should
be
reciprocal
:
what
is
he
doing
here
?
Why
has
he
come
to
Dresden
?
"
"
He
is
learning
German
,
"
replies
Belinda
reluctantly
.
"
H
'm
!
I
wonder
how
much
he
has
learnt
?
"
with
a
dry
laugh
.
Belinda
's
sole
response
to
this
pleasantry
is
to
push
her
chair
back
very
decidedly
,
and
isolate
her
sister
on
the
floor
.
"
What
does
he
do
when
he
is
at
home
?
"
continues
Sarah
,
taking
no
notice
of
this
evidence
of
displeasure
,
and
obstinately
pursuing
her
catechism
.
"
He
has
just
left
Oxbridge
,
"
rather
sulkily
.
"
Where
,
no
doubt
,
he
took
several
Double
Firsts
!
"
with
an
ironical
smile
.
"
He
rowed
stroke
in
the
University
Eight
last
year
,
"
very
precipitately
,
and
reddening
under
this
fleer
.
"
Is
he
his
own
father
,
or
has
he
a
father
?
"
"
He
has
a
father
.
"
"
And
what
is
the
father
—
what
does
the
father
do
?
"
"
I
believe
—
he
is
in
business
,
"
grudgingly
.
"
In
business
?
"
with
raised
eyebrows
,
and
an
accent
of
surprise
and
dissatisfaction
.
"
Well
,
"
more
cheerfully
,
"
there
is
business
and
business
!
Have
you
any
idea
what
sort
of
business
it
is
?
"
"
Not
the
slightest
,
"
very
curtly
.
"
It
is
a
liberal
age
,
"
says
Sarah
philosophically
,
"
but
one
must
draw
the
line
somewhere
.
I
draw
the
line
at
artificial
manure
!
Come
,
now
,
have
you
any
reason
for
supposing
that
it
is
artificial
manure
?
"
Belinda
laughs
a
little
,
but
most
unwillingly
.
"
I
dare
say
it
is
.
I
never
asked
.
"
"
Do
you
remember
,
"
says
Sarah
,
"
the
little
Frenchman
,
covered
with
orders
—
Legions
of
Honour
and
Saint
Esprits
by
the
gross
—
that
we
met
at
the
ball
at
Cannes
,
who
told
me
that
he
was
'
dans
le
commerce
,
'
and
when
I
inquired
what
branch
,
and
suggested
that
perhaps
he
was
'
dans
les
vins
?
'
answered
grandiosely
,
'
Non
,
mademoiselle
;
le
suis
dans
les
bougies
!
'
"
A
pause
.
The
pug
has
arisen
from
the
cold
par
quet
,
and
,
with
her
tail
still
half-mast
high
in
the
enervation
of
slumber
,
has
stepped
delicately
on
to
Sarah
,
and
cast
herself
with
a
deep
,
slow
sigh
upon
her
warm
lap
.
"
Your
friend
does
not
look
as
if
he
were
'
dans
les
bougies
,
'
"
says
Sarah
presently
,
with
an
air
of
thoughtful
generosity
;
"
still
less
dans
le
—
I
declare
I
do
not
know
what
is
the
French
for
artificial
manure
!
How
Granny
has
neglected
our
educations
!
"
But
Belinda
is
not
attending
.
Belinda
's
head
is
raised
,
and
upon
her
face
has
come
a
look
of
blissful
listening
.
Her
fine
ear
has
detected
a
footfall
in
the
anteroom
outside
—
a
footfall
that
not
even
Slutty
,
the
pug
,
has
yet
suspected
;
a
step
that
she
has
discriminated
from
that
of
the
flat
foot
Gustel
.
"
It
is
you
,
is
it
?
"
says
Sarah
,
in
a
not
particularly
exhilarated
voice
,
scrambling
to
her
feet
as
Rivers
,
ushered
in
by
an
infant
English
page
who
divides
the
cares
of
the
ménage
with
Gustel
,
enters
.
She
gives
him
two
contemptuous
fingers
.
Of
what
use
to
give
more
to
a
man
who
holds
them
as
if
they
were
a
bundle
of
sticks
.
She
might
have
given
him
ten
,
or
twenty
,
or
none
,
for
all
he
knows
.
His
eyes
have
strayed
away
over
her
,
to
him
,
totally
irrelevant
head
,
and
have
fastened
on
his
mistress
,
asking
eagerly
if
this
can
indeed
be
she
,
alive
and
real
,
whom
all
night
long
he
has
pursued
through
his
radiant
dreams
.
"
Perhaps
you
can
help
us
,
"
says
Sarah
,
with
an
innocent
look
.
"
We
have
just
been
wondering
what
the
French
for
artificial
manure
is
?
"
He
does
not
hear
.
Belinda
's
hand
in
his
is
making
summer
in
his
veins
,
and
his
happy
eyes
are
drowned
in
hers
as
happy
.
But
Belinda
hears
.
"
Sarah
is
speaking
to
you
!
"
she
says
,
low
and
hurriedly
.
He
turns
round
reluctantly
with
a
start
.
"
I
beg
your
pardon
!
I
—
I
—
did
not
quite
catch
what
you
were
saying
.
"
"
I
was
only
asking
you
if
you
knew
the
French
for
artificial
manure
?
"
she
answers
demurely
.
"
For
artificial
manure
!
"
repeats
he
,
astounded
.
"
Of
course
I
do
not
!
Why
should
I
?
Why
do
you
want
to
know
what
is
the
French
for
artificial
manure
?
Is
it
a
riddle
?
"
Even
for
his
explanation
he
has
turned
again
to
Belinda
,
as
inevitably
as
the
sunflower
to
the
sun
.
"
We
were
only
talking
of
—
of
—
agriculture
;
were
not
we
,
Belinda
?
"
replies
the
other
,
smiling
malevolently
at
her
sister
's
obvious
,
and
to
Rivers
incomprehensible
,
discomfiture
.
That
his
Egeria
could
look
foolish
,
as
she
is
indisputably
doing
,
would
never
,
indeed
,
occur
to
him
;
but
nothing
short
of
total
blindness
could
prevent
his
seeing
the
sudden
cascade
of
scarlet
which
has
poured
over
her
.
For
one
instant
,
indeed
,
the
blest
idea
has
darted
across
his
mind
that
this
lovely
flag
may
be
hung
out
for
him
;
but
his
humility
—
for
real
love
is
ever
most
humble
—
at
once
dismisses
the
scarcely
formed
thought
as
too
good
to
be
true
.
Perhaps
it
is
his
scrutiny
,
silent
and
intense
,
that
embarrasses
her
.
Of
course
he
ought
to
say
something
.
On
a
morning
visit
one
must
say
something
.
"
Why
are
you
sitting
in
the
dark
?
"
he
asks
,
glancing
at
the
carefully
drawn-down
blinds
.
"
The
sun
is
not
on
this
side
of
the
house
,
and
there
is
no
glare
anywhere
to-day
.
"
"
It
is
very
gloomy
,
is
not
it
?
"
replies
Belinda
,
who
is
slowly
recovering
her
countenance
;
"
and
we
are
so
fond
of
light
and
air
,
too
.
But
it
cannot
be
helped
;
we
are
obliged
to
have
them
down
because
of
Miss
Watson
.
"
"
Because
of
Miss
Watson
?
I
do
not
understand
.
"
"
She
lives
on
the
other
side
of
the
street
,
a
little
farther
down
,
and
she
has
lately
set
up
a
spy-glass
or
telescope
of
some
kind
in
her
window
,
with
which
she
rakes
us
fore
and
aft
.
She
told
us
triumphantly
on
Tuesday
that
she
could
see
everything
we
did
.
I
believe
that
she
can
tell
by
the
movement
of
our
lips
what
we
are
saying
.
"
"
If
I
thought
so
,
"
said
Sarah
viciously
,
"
what
things
I
would
say
about
her
!
"
"
It
will
end
in
our
being
forced
to
leave
the
apartment
,
"
says
Belinda
with
a
shrug
.
"
A
friend
of
ours
was
.
She
has
now
taken
one
that
looks
upon
a
blank
wall
as
being
her
only
real
security
.
"
"
Miss
Watson
combines
all
the
worst
qualities
of
the
gnat
and
the
rhinoceros
,
"
says
Sarah
gravely
;
"
but
I
think
her
most
offensive
trait
—
though
,
indeed
,
among
so
many
it
is
invidious
to
give
the
preference
to
any
one
—
is
her
continual
persecution
of
us
to
go
on
expeditions
with
her
.
"
"
Then
I
am
afraid
that
you
will
look
upon
me
as
a
second
Miss
Watson
,
"
says
Rivers
bluntly
,
and
colouring
,
as
he
delivers
himself
with
untold
difficulty
of
his
simple
errand
;
"
for
that
is
exactly
what
I
came
here
this
morning
to
do
!
"
"
Another
expedition
?
"
cries
Sarah
,
in
a
tone
of
anything
but
gratification
.
"
Why
,
it
seems
as
if
we
had
not
been
back
five
minutes
from
the
last
!
"
"
It
would
evidently
be
an
empty
civility
to
ask
whether
you
enjoyed
it
!
"
says
Rivers
,
with
a
rather
mortified
laugh
.
"
And
you
?
"
—
the
sunflower
turning
again
greedily
to
its
sun
.
"
I
was
not
bored
,
"
answers
Belinda
in
a
constrained
voice
.
"
I
enjoy
expeditions
!
I
like
Moritzburg
.
"
This
is
all
that
she
has
to
say
about
the
hours
that
had
made
him
sick
with
desire
in
anticipation
,
stammering
with
bliss
in
fruition
,
drunk
with
joy
in
retrospect
!
He
looks
at
her
with
an
intense
wistfulness
that
is
almost
incredulity
;
but
she
gives
him
back
no
glance
.
How
can
she
,
knowing
,
as
she
does
by
long
experience
,
that
Sarah
has
eyes
in
the
back
of
her
head
?
Sarah
,
who
is
ostensibly
,
and
as
he
in
the
innocence
of
his
heart
believes
really
,
entirely
absorbed
in
making
Slutty
miserable
,
by
affecting
to
suppose
that
she
looks
faint
and
holding
smelling-salts
to
her
outraged
nose
.
"
I
thought
,
"
he
says
in
a
chapfallen
voice
,
"
that
it
would
not
be
a
bad
day
for
Wesenstein
;
or
,
if
you
liked
that
better
,
Tharandt
.
"
"
You
really
must
be
related
to
Miss
Watson
!
"
cries
Sarah
,
bursting
out
laughing
.
"
Wesenstein
!
Tharandt
!
Those
are
her
two
chevaux
de
bataille
.
If
we
do
not
go
to
Wesenstein
we
must
go
to
Tharandt
;
and
if
we
do
not
go
to
Tharandt
we
must
go
to
Wesenstein
!
Good
heavens
!
"
suddenly
stopping
in
mid-laugh
;
"
Unberufen
!
I
hear
her
on
the
stairs
!
Hers
is
the
only
voice
that
one
can
hear
through
the
double
doors
.
"
"
She
has
come
to
make
us
go
to
Wesenstein
with
her
!
"
says
Belinda
in
a
low
key
of
consternation
.
"
It
is
the
finger
of
Providence
!
"
cries
Sarah
,
resuming
her
merriment
.
"
Mr.
Rivers
,
you
want
to
go
to
Wesenstein
.
She
wants
to
go
to
Wesenstein
!
Why
should
not
you
go
together
?
I
will
arrange
it
for
you
!
"
"
If
you
do
,
"
says
the
young
man
,
stepping
threateningly
towards
her
,
and
speaking
in
a
tone
of
the
most
genuine
alarm
and
exasperation
,
"
I
'll
—
"
"
You
will
be
the
death
of
me
!
"
interrupts
Sarah
pertly
,
finishing
his
sentence
for
him
.
"
I
know
.
So
you
said
yesterday
.
I
wish
you
would
invent
a
new
threat
.
"
For
a
moment
they
all
listen
silently
.
"
I
believe
it
was
a
false
alarm
,
"
says
Belinda
,
drawing
a
long
breath
.
"
No
,
it
was
not
!
"
rejoins
Sarah
,
shaking
her
head
.
"
There
is
no
mistaking
that
bison
's
voice
.
She
is
only
stopping
on
the
stairs
to
ask
Tommy
what
wages
he
has
,
and
whether
Granny
gives
him
enough
to
eat
!
"
CHAPTER
VI
.
It
is
too
true
.
While
the
words
are
yet
in
Sarah
's
mouth
,
the
door
opens
and
admits
the
red
face
,
the
grizzled
fringe
,
and
the
black
and
white
plaid
gown
that
they
have
all
been
apprehensively
expecting
.
"
Any
admittance
?
"
cries
the
burly
voice
,
as
the
owner
enters
without
awaiting
an
answer
to
her
question
.
"
All
alive
and
well
?
"
"
We
are
all
alive
,
"
replies
Sarah
gloomily
,
giving
a
hand
ten
degrees
limper
even
than
that
one
which
she
had
vouch-safed
to
Rivers
.
"
As
to
being
well
—
"
"
Why
are
you
all
sitting
in
the
dark
?
Why
are
all
your
blinds
down
?
"
interrupts
the
other
breathlessly
,
unable
any
longer
to
contain
the
curiosity
with
which
she
has
been
bursting
all
the
way
up
the
long
stone
stairs
.
There
is
a
moment
of
stupefied
silence
,
as
the
conviction
flashes
coldly
on
all
their
minds
that
they
have
over-reached
themselves
.
"
I
happened
to
look
up
as
I
was
passing
,
"
continues
Miss
Watson
inquisitively
,
"
and
saw
that
the
blinds
were
all
drawn
down
.
I
thought
that
of
course
I
had
better
inquire
the
reason
at
once
;
but
I
could
not
get
any
satisfactory
answer
out
of
your
page-boy
—
Tommy
he
tells
me
his
name
is
.
I
had
a
little
talk
with
him
on
the
stairs
coming
up
;
he
does
not
seem
a
very
intelligent
boy
—
Tommy
—
does
he
?
"
"
We
had
him
cheaper
by
getting
him
out
of
an
idiot
asylum
,
"
replies
Sarah
gravely
;
and
Rivers
,
moonstruck
as
he
is
,
explodes
.
"
Grandmamma
quite
well
?
"
"
Do
you
think
that
she
is
dead
,
and
that
that
is
why
we
have
the
blinds
down
?
"
says
Sarah
ironically
.
"
Thanks
,
she
is
quite
well
,
but
she
is
not
up
yet
.
You
see
it
is
a
little
early
!
"
At
this
side-stroke
Rivers
winces
.
Does
not
it
apply
equally
to
him
?
But
upon
the
object
at
whom
it
is
aimed
it
is
absolutely
wasted
.
"
No
bad
news
from
England
,
eh
?
"
"
Thanks
,
no
!
"
"
I
was
afraid
"
—
her
eyes
wandering
inquisitively
round
—
"
by
seeing
the
blinds
down
,
that
you
might
have
heard
of
the
loss
of
a
relation
.
No
?
Well
,
then
,
why
are
they
all
down
?
"
There
is
a
moment
's
silence
.
What
question
can
be
easier
,
and
yet
more
difficult
,
to
answer
?
At
last
:
"
There
is
no
reason
why
they
should
not
be
pulled
up
now
?
"
says
Sarah
drily
.
"
Mr.
Rivers
,
up
with
the
blinds
!
"
Mr.
Rivers
obeys
.
The
houses
on
the
other
side
of
the
street
again
come
into
sight
,
and
the
gloom
flies
.
"
I
am
so
glad
of
this
opportunity
to
make
your
acquaintance
,
Mr.
Rivers
!
"
says
Miss
Watson
,
following
him
to
the
window
,
and
cordially
extending
her
large
hand
.
"
As
soon
as
I
heard
your
name
I
longed
to
ask
you
what
Rivers
you
are
?
I
know
so
many
Rivers
.
I
am
sure
that
I
must
know
all
your
people
!
What
Rivers
are
you
?
"
The
young
man
has
turned
,
the
blind-cord
still
in
his
hand
,
towards
her
.
His
face
has
grown
nearly
as
red
as
hers
,
albeit
the
red
is
of
a
different
quality
.
"
That
is
a
rather
posing
question
,
is
not
it
?
"
he
says
,
with
a
confused
laugh
,
the
Englishman
's
difficulty
in
discussing
himself
being
,
in
his
case
,
intensified
a
hundredfold
by
the
consciousness
that
Belinda
is
eagerly
listening
;
"
how
can
I
describe
myself
?
"
"
All
the
rivers
run
into
the
sea
,
but
the
sea
is
not
full
!
"
says
Sarah
flippantly
;
and
Rivers
looks
vexed
.
There
is
not
one
among
us
,
however
wise
and
good
and
humble
,
who
does
not
detest
a
joke
upon
his
own
name
.
"
I
know
Lord
Rivers
,
"
continues
Miss
Watson
,
fixing
him
with
her
inexorable
eye
.
"
At
least
I
may
really
say
that
I
virtually
know
him
;
we
were
at
the
same
hotel
at
Cairo
for
two
nights
together
;
and
though
we
never
exactly
met
,
as
he
did
not
dine
at
the
table
d'hôte
,
yet
there
is
a
sort
of
freemasonry
in
being
at
the
same
hotel
!
How
is
Lord
Rivers
?
is
he
quite
well
?
Is
there
any
chance
of
his
coming
here
?
"
"
I
have
not
the
slightest
idea
,
"
replies
Rivers
bluntly
.
"
He
is
not
the
most
distant
connection
of
mine
!
"
"
Ah
!
then
"
—
with
a
look
of
enlightenment
—
"
you
are
one
of
the
other
Rivers
;
one
of
the
Stukeley
Rivers
—
Sir
Edward
Rivers
'
family
.
Now
do
tell
me
,
which
of
the
brothers
are
you
?
I
am
always
so
puzzled
amongst
them
!
Are
you
Humphrey
?
or
Randulphus
?
or
a
younger
one
still
?
"
"
I
am
neither
Humphrey
,
nor
Randulphus
,
nor
a
younger
one
still
!
"
answers
Rivers
sulkily
,
his
usually
amiable
and
always
beautiful
boy
's
face
beginning
to
look
rather
dangerous
under
this
continued
baiting
.
"
I
am
not
related
to
Sir
Edward
Rivers
,
and
I
never
heard
of
Stukeley
!
"
"
Then
I
declare
that
I
am
quite
at
a
loss
!
"
says
she
,
baffled
.
But
as
her
eye
shows
no
sign
of
releasing
him
,
as
she
is
evidently
bent
upon
extracting
from
him
a
response
of
some
kind
,
he
has
to
make
what
shift
he
can
to
answer
her
.
"
I
am
sure
I
do
not
know
what
Rivers
we
are
!
"
he
says
,
in
a
shy
,
fierce
voice
,
looking
out
of
the
window
as
if
with
some
vague
idea
of
escape
by
it
.
"
There
are
a
good
many
of
us
,
and
we
live
in
York-
shire
;
and
my
father
is
in
business
!
"
As
the
back
of
his
head
is
turned
to
the
room
;
and
as
,
unlike
Sarah
,
he
has
no
eyes
in
it
,
perhaps
she
is
justified
in
putting
up
one
hand
as
a
speaking-trumpet
to
her
lips
,
and
noiselessly
mouthing
through
it
for
her
sister
's
benefit
the
syllables
,
"
Ar
—
ti
—
fi
—
ci
—
al
ma
—
nure
!
"
At
all
events
,
this
is
what
she
does
.
"
She
is
really
gone
!
"
says
Sarah
,
turning
away
from
the
window
half
an
hour
later
,
after
a
cautious
reconnoitre
,
and
drawing
a
long
breath
.
"
Mercifully
,
the
Greenes
were
passing
,
and
she
fell
upon
them
from
behind
,
so
that
they
could
not
escape
her
.
Generally
she
has
a
way
of
pretending
to
have
forgotten
her
umbrella
,
and
coming
back
to
hear
what
one
is
saying
of
her
.
"
"
I
wonder
she
has
not
been
cured
of
that
before
now
,
"
says
Belinda
gravely
,
"
as
she
never
can
have
heard
any
good
.
"
"
It
is
the
triumph
of
hope
over
experience
!
"
rejoins
Sarah
.
"
Well
,
"
with
a
gay
look
at
Rivers
,
"
at
least
it
is
a
comfort
to
think
that
she
has
at
last
found
out
conclusively
what
Rivers
you
are
!
"
"
Or
,
rather
,
what
Rivers
I
am
not
,
"
replies
he
drily
;
"
it
is
not
quite
the
same
thing
.
"
"
To
be
neither
Humphrey
nor
Randulphus
!
"
says
Belinda
,
with
a
happy
,
shy
,
rallying
smile
;
"
how
sad
!
"
"
I
wonder
,
now
,
what
your
Christian
name
really
is
?
"
says
Sarah
.
"
Come
out
,
Slutty
;
she
is
gone
!
Slutty
always
crawls
under
this
bureau
when
Miss
Watson
calls
;
she
hates
her
so
!
I
have
tried
to
teach
her
to
bite
her
leg
,
but
she
will
not
go
so
far
as
that
.
Yes
now
,
what
is
your
Christian
name
?
"
"
What
should
you
think
?
"
he
asks
joyously
,
his
heart
leaping
wildly
at
that
small
coy
smile
which
his
dear
lady
has
just
spared
him
.
"
What
do
I
look
like
?
"
"
You
might
be
Arthur
,
"
replies
Sarah
,
sitting
down
with
Slutty
in
her
lap
,
and
looking
him
over
well
and
thoroughly
;
"
there
is
no
reason
why
you
should
not
be
Reginald
;
and
I
have
heard
of
more
unlikely
things
than
your
being
Guy
!
"
"
Wrong
!
grossly
wrong
!
"
replies
he
,
enduring
her
scrutiny
with
the
most
perfect
sang
froid
,
and
,
indeed
,
giving
her
back
her
cool
hardy
look
.
"
I
never
heard
a
worse
shot
!
And
you
—
what
do
you
think
?
"
his
tone
growing
suddenly
reverent
,
and
his
bold
eyes
veiled
and
shy
.
"
You
shall
give
me
only
one
guess
!
"
she
answers
merrily
.
"
I
say
—
David
!
"
"
David
!
"
repeats
Sarah
scornfully
.
"
How
likely
!
Try
Goliath
at
once
!
"
But
Rivers
,
in
an
ecstasy
of
pleasure
at
his
love
's
intuition
,
is
crying
out
:
"
How
did
you
know
?
How
did
you
find
out
?
I
never
told
you
!
"
"
Was
not
it
a
good
guess
?
"
she
says
with
a
demure
smile
.
"
No
;
it
was
not
a
guess
!
I
read
it
—
you
know
you
sat
before
us
last
Sunday
—
in
the
fly-leaf
of
your
Prayer-book
in
church
!
"
She
blushes
faintly
as
a
China
rose
at
this
admission
of
how
her
thoughts
and
eyes
had
stolen
away
from
praise
and
supplication
to
spell
out
his
name
.
"
David
!
"
repeats
Sarah
,
in
an
extremely
dubious
voice
.
"
H
'm
!
"
"
It
is
a
family
name
among
us
,
"
he
adds
in
explanation
;
"
among
my
mother
's
people
,
that
is
.
"
There
is
a
moment
's
silence
.
For
the
first
and
only
time
in
her
life
Sarah
wishes
for
Miss
Watson
back
again
,
to
ascertain
,
as
she
undoubtedly
would
by
direct
inquiry
,
who
and
what
his
mother
's
people
are
.
But
as
she
herself
does
not
feel
quite
equal
to
the
task
,
the
fact
remains
wrapped
in
as
much
mystery
as
does
the
nature
of
his
father
's
commercial
operations
.
"
Well
,
I
suppose
,
"
says
the
young
man
,
sighing
heavily
,
and
gently
and
reluctantly
setting
down
Slutty
(
Slutty
loves
him
;
he
has
mastered
the
exact
spot
in
her
back
which
demands
delicate
and
perennial
scratching
.
She
has
forsaken
Sarah
to
jump
up
on
his
lap
,
though
she
has
in
general
but
a
poor
opinion
of
men
's
laps
,
as
cold
and
hollow
pretences
)
—
"
I
suppose
I
must
be
going
.
I
am
afraid
that
you
have
already
had
too
much
of
me
!
"
He
pauses
,
with
a
wistful
look
towards
Belinda
's
bent
and
shining
head
,
but
neither
girl
contradicts
him
:
the
one
because
she
so
cordially
agrees
with
him
;
the
other
because
she
so
passionately
dissents
.
He
moves
unwillingly
to
the
door
,
but
there
halts
again
.
"
And
—
and
Wesenstein
?
"
he
says
desperately
.
"
What
about
it
?
"
cries
Sarah
peevishly
.
"
Did
not
you
hear
us
calling
all
our
gods
to
witness
to
Miss
Watson
that
we
were
so
broken
with
fatigue
since
Moritzburg
that
we
could
scarcely
lift
a
finger
?
"
"
I
heard
you
,
"
he
answers
bluntly
,
laying
a
significant
stress
upon
the
pronoun
.
"
Now
I
warn
you
,
"
says
she
,
holding
up
her
forefinger
threateningly
at
him
,
"
that
if
you
mention
Wesenstein
again
,
I
shall
stop
my
ears
.
"
"
There
are
other
places
besides
Wesenstein
,
"
returns
he
pertinaciously
;
something
about
Belinda
—
not
anything
she
has
said
certainly
,
for
she
has
said
nothing
—
but
possibly
the
unnatural
fury
with
which
she
is
knitting
,
encouraging
him
to
persevere
.
"
Of
course
!
"
very
snappishly
;
'
Tharandt
!
'
"
No
,
not
Tharandt
;
there
are
other
places
beside
Tharandt
.
Loch
Mühle
,
for
instance
;
have
you
ever
seen
Loch
Mühle
?
"
"
Never
!
"
very
crossly
;
"
and
I
humbly
hope
that
I
never
shall
.
Why
should
we
go
anywhere
?
"
pursues
she
,
burying
,
her
ill-humoured
face
in
the
sofa-cushion
.
"
Leave
me
,
leave
me
to
repose
.
I
have
not
the
faintest
wish
to
go
anywhere
.
"
"
And
you
never
do
anything
but
what
you
wish
yourself
?
"
asks
Rivers
snubbingly
,
eyeing
with
extreme
disfavour
her
petulant
prettiness
.
To
him
she
does
not
appear
in
the
least
pretty
.
"
Never
,
if
I
can
help
it
!
"
replies
she
,
raising
her
head
,
surprised
and
languidly
titillated
by
his
tone
,
which
is
not
what
she
had
expected
in
him
.
"
Do
you
?
"
He
laughs
drily
.
"
Never
,
if
I
can
help
it
;
but
in
a
large
family
one
cannot
help
it
.
"
"
In
a
large
family
,
"
repeats
she
.
"
You
are
one
of
a
large
family
?
"
"
It
depends
upon
what
you
call
large
;
there
are
six
of
us
.
"
"
Five
too
many
,
"
rejoins
she
promptly
.
"
And
where
do
you
come
—
third
—
fourth
?
"
"
I
come
first
.
"
"
Are
you
taking
a
leaf
out
of
Miss
Watson
's
book
?
"
asks
Belinda
severely
,
joining
in
the
dialogue
for
the
first
time
.
"
I
think
I
am
,
"
replies
the
other
composedly
.
"
Well
,
then
,
we
will
make
a
bargain
:
I
will
ask
you
no
more
questions
if
you
will
promise
to
invite
me
to
go
no
more
expeditions
;
there
!
"
So
saying
,
she
re-buries
her
head
in
the
pillows
;
and
as
she
totally
declines
to
raise
it
again
,
and
as
neither
does
Belinda
add
another
syllable
,
he
is
at
length
obliged
to
withdraw
defeated
.
For
a
moment
after
he
has
disappeared
,
Belinda
still
knits
violently
,
her
forehead
puckered
,
a
warm
pink
wave
ebbing
and
flowing
in
her
cheeks
,
and
a
sharp
brush
between
love
and
pride
going
on
in
her
heart
.
For
the
first
time
in
her
life
pride
goes
to
the
wall
.
She
tosses
down
her
stocking
and
springs
to
the
door
.
"
Mr.
Rivers
!
"
she
calls
tremblingly
;
"
Mr.
Rivers
!
"
He
must
have
walked
very
slowly
,
for
he
has
only
just
reached
the
double
doors
of
egress
.
"
Yes
,
"
he
answers
pantingly
;
"
yes
?
"
"
It
is
nothing
,
"
she
says
,
faltering
into
deep
shyness
again
,
and
quivering
under
the
fervid
expectancy
of
his
look
.
"
I
only
wanted
to
tell
you
that
—
that
it
is
not
my
fault
;
that
,
for
my
part
,
I
should
have
liked
to
go
to
Loch
Mühle
.
"
"
Then
why
in
Heaven
's
name
could
not
you
say
so
sooner
?
"
asks
Sarah
,
whose
long
ears
have
again
served
her
faithfully
,
pouncing
out
upon
them
.
"
I
am
sorry
that
his
name
is
David
,
"
she
says
reflectively
,
a
little
later
,
when
he
has
gone
,
jubilant
now
,
to
arrange
the
excursion
.
"
I
am
afraid
it
looks
ill
;
the
poor
people
are
so
fond
of
Scripture
names
.
"
A
high
sun
,
hot
and
benign
;
a
west
wind
,
sweet
with
last
night
's
rain
;
myriads
and
myriads
of
blossomed
fruit-trees
;
villages
that
seem
built
of
and
buried
in
snow
;
enormous
bunches
of
pear-blossoms
,
that
look
as
if
the
boughs
must
break
under
their
weight
;
the
ways
all
white
with
arches
of
cherry-bloom
;
the
horses
trotting
over
a
carpet
of
strewn
cherry-
petals
,
as
at
some
high
wedding
pomp
;
and
a
seat
opposite
Belinda
,
who
has
allowed
him
to
open
her
parasol
for
her
.
Is
it
any
wonder
that
Rivers
has
forgotten
that
it
is
near
three
o'clock
,
and
that
,
at
an
hour
at
which
most
people
are
full
,
he
and
his
company
are
still
fasting
?
But
they
have
not
forgotten
.
For
the
last
mile
and
a
half
he
has
been
pelted
by
an
ever
sharper
shower
of
anxious
and
peevish
questions
as
to
whether
the
Kutscher
knows
the
road
;
as
to
whether
they
have
still
a
mile
,
two
miles
,
half
a
mile
to
go
;
as
to
whether
he
is
sure
that
there
is
a
Gasthof
;
as
to
whether
,
lastly
and
desperately
this
,
he
is
certain
that
there
is
such
a
place
as
Lohmen
(
it
is
at
Lohmen
that
they
are
to
lunch
)
at
all
.
"
I
suppose
,
"
says
the
Professor
finally
,
putting
on
his
spectacles
in
order
to
look
full
and
murderously
at
him
through
them
(
he
does
not
often
look
at
undergraduates
,
he
dislikes
them
too
much
)
,
"
I
suppose
that
you
are
aware
that
the
whole
responsibility
of
the
excursion
rests
with
you
?
"
"
Yes
,
I
am
aware
,
"
replies
Rivers
in-attentively
and
dreamily
.
She
has
just
deigned
to
accept
a
little
switch
from
him
—
a
flowered
cherry-bough
,
blossomed
to
the
end
of
each
brown
twig
—
and
is
daintily
waving
away
the
audacious
summer
flies
with
it
.
The
Professor
has
five
distinct
good
reasons
for
being
cross
,
and
for
most
people
one
suffices
.
Firstly
,
he
did
not
want
to
come
at
all
;
secondly
,
he
has
the
threatenings
of
a
snuffly
cold
,
contracted
in
the
long
Moritzburg
grass
and
among
the
Moritzburg
pigs
,
and
probably
to
be
sensibly
worsened
by
the
present
pleasure
trip
;
thirdly
,
he
hates
sitting
with
his
back
to
the
horses
—
a
thing
which
his
votaries
indeed
seldom
suffer
him
to
do
—
but
in
this
case
there
has
been
no
suggestion
of
offering
him
a
front
seat
;
fourthly
,
his
digestion
has
been
for
so
many
years
his
master
,
that
it
now
allows
him
with
impunity
no
least
derangement
of
his
meal-
times
;
fifthly
and
lastly
,
Sarah
has
three
times
flagrantly
pretended
not
to
hear
him
when
he
addressed
her
,
and
has
once
crabbedly
asked
him
to
let
her
have
a
little
more
room
.
For
Sarah
is
,
if
possible
,
still
crosser
than
he
.
The
low
,
trivial
words
that
the
sweet
wind
carries
not
to
her
,
but
alongside
of
her
;
the
ardent
iron-grey
eyes
that
she
is
always
accidentally
meeting
,
and
that
instantly
lose
their
ardour
the
moment
they
encounter
hers
;
the
dust
,
for
,
despite
last
night
's
rain
,
there
is
dust
;
the
sense
of
physical
emptiness
,
that
no
tickled
vanity
,
no
warmed
passions
redeem
,
have
wrought
her
by
the
time
they
at
length
alight
at
the
door
of
a
simple
but
not
untempting-looking
Gasthof
to
such
a
pitch
of
ill-humour
as
makes
her
betrothed
's
mild
fractiousness
pale
beside
it
.
"
How
cross
they
are
!
"
says
Rivers
,
having
for
the
first
time
realised
this
long
sufficiently
patent
fact
,
and
looking
after
them
with
sunny
wonder
,
as
the
Professor
hastens
into
the
inn
to
order
luncheon
,
eagerly
followed
by
Sarah
.
"
And
how
greedy
!
"
adds
Belinda
.
And
having
thus
calmly
characterised
their
companions
'
vices
,
they
stray
away
together
down
the
little
garden
path
,
where
the
bloody
warriors
and
the
cat-faced
pansies
merrily
grow
in
the
sandy
border
,
and
forget
them
.
They
have
not
,
however
,
been
long
left
to
watch
the
happy
butterflies
hover
,
and
the
young
flowers
blow
,
before
a
captious
voice
overtakes
and
recalls
them
.
"
I
thought
,
"
cries
the
Professor
from
the
open
Gasthof
door
,
and
in
a
voice
whose
exasperation
is
sensibly
sharpened
even
since
it
was
last
heard
in
querulous
inquiry
five
minutes
ago
—
"
I
thought
,
Mr.
Rivers
,
that
you
gave
us
to
understand
that
there
was
a
good
hotel
to
be
found
here
?
"
"
And
is
not
there
?
"
answers
the
young
man
absently
.
He
has
just
thieved
a
sweetbriar
spray
,
young
and
vernal
,
and
is
making
it
fit
for
his
love
's
tender
hand
by
carefully
nipping
off
all
its
thorns
.
"
I
think
,
"
pursues
the
voice
,
"
that
an
inn
can
hardly
be
qualified
as
good
when
there
is
not
a
single
vegetable
to
be
procured
—
not
even
a
potato
!
"
"
Of
course
it
cannot
,
"
replies
Rivers
serenely
.
"
Look
!
"
pointing
joyously
out
to
his
companion
a
poised
butterfly
opening
and
shutting
its
freaky
wings
on
a
dark
pansy
face
;
"
does
not
he
look
jolly
?
He
is
the
first
tortoiseshell
I
have
seen
this
spring
.
"
"
And
where
,
"
continues
the
voice
,
in
an
intenser
key
of
resentment
,
"
there
is
absolutely
nothing
of
any
kind
to
be
obtained
except
veal
.
"
"
Except
veal
!
"
repeats
Rivers
,
rousing
himself
with
an
effort
into
a
simulation
of
interest
;
"
you
do
not
say
so
!
Well
,
but
,
"
lapsing
into
unavoidable
radiance
again
,
"
does
it
matter
much
?
German
veal
is
always
so
good
.
I
hope
,
"
looking
sunnily
round
,
"
that
no
one
dislikes
veal
!
"
There
is
a
sulky
silence
,
broken
only
by
Belinda
's
murmuring
that
she
loves
it
,
and
by
the
Professor
's
remarking
that
all
white
meats
are
more
or
less
indigestible
.
Whether
they
like
it
or
not
,
however
,
further
inquiry
only
serves
to
confirm
the
fact
that
they
must
either
resign
themselves
to
a
luncheon
of
kalbfleisch
and
bread
(
calf-flesh
being
the
one
universally
procurable
flesh
in
Germany
)
or
not
lunch
at
all
.
Nor
,
when
this
is
settled
,
does
the
calf-flesh
seem
in
any
hurry
to
appear
.
By-and-by
,
indeed
,
a
leisurely
Blowsabella
of
a
serving-maid
lays
a
coarse
clean
cloth
and
some
knives
and
forks
in
what
she
calls
the
bavillon
,
a
homely
arbour
at
the
garden
end
;
and
thither
the
Professor
at
once
repairs
,
and
seating
himself
at
his
place
before
the
empty
table
,
lays
his
watch
before
him
,
and
seems
to
derive
a
bitter
solace
from
counting
the
numerous
moments
as
they
pass
,
and
announcing
them
by
five
at
a
time
aloud
to
Rivers
.
But
Rivers
does
not
hear
.
"
Do
not
let
us
go
near
them
,
"
he
says
in
a
cajoling
,
low
voice
to
Belinda
,
wiling
her
away
again
into
the
sun
and
the
flowers
;
"
in
their
present
frame
of
mind
it
is
not
safe
.
"
"
Well
,
you
know
it
is
not
the
first
of
April
,
and
you
have
made
fools
of
us
!
"
she
answers
,
a
little
drily
.
"
Are
you
starving
?
"
he
cries
,
roused
into
sudden
,
tardy
compunction
.
The
Professor
's
and
Sarah
's
pangs
had
left
him
cold
as
a
stone
,
merciless
as
Herod
.
"
Famished
!
"
replies
she
;
but
she
says
it
with
such
a
charming
smile
of
absolute
well-being
,
making
mirthful
her
grave
lips
,
that
his
misgivings
fly
.
For
all
they
care
,
the
kalbfleisch
may
be
an
hour
,
two
hours
,
three
in
coming
!
It
has
been
smoking
for
a
couple
of
minutes
,
indeed
,
on
the
table
,
and
the
Professor
and
Sarah
have
been
seen
greedily
to
help
themselves
before
they
think
it
worth
while
to
draw
nigh
.
When
at
length
they
do
:
"
It
is
uneatable
!
"
says
the
Professor
,
laying
down
his
knife
and
fork
with
a
shocking
calmness
,
and
regarding
Rivers
,
as
he
approaches
in
his
infuriating
,
senseless
radiance
,
with
a
glassy
look
of
vengeful
despair
.
"
Impossible
!
"
cries
the
young
man
,
hastily
helping
himself
,
and
boldly
taking
a
good
