knowhow
to
go
even
for
a
few
weeks
.
There
were
certain
individuals
in
particular
who
depended
on
him
from
day
to
day
.
One
was
Charles
Richards
's
widow
.
The
poor
desperate
creature
had
put
herself
abjectly
into
Elsmere
's
hands
.
He
had
sent
her
to
an
asylum
,
where
she
had
been
kindly
and
skilfully
treated
,
and
after
six
weeks
'
abstinence
she
had
just
returned
to
her
children
,
and
was
being
watched
by
himself
and
a
competent
woman
neighbour
,
whom
he
had
succeeded
in
interesting
in
the
case
.
Another
was
a
young
'
secret
springer
,
'
to
use
the
mysterious
terms
of
the
trade
—
Robson
by
name
—
whom
Elsmere
had
originally
known
as
a
clever
workman
belonging
to
the
watchmaking
colony
,
and
a
diligent
attendant
from
the
beginning
on
the
Sunday
lectures
.
He
was
now
too
ill
to
leave
his
lodgings
,
and
his
sickly
pessimist
personality
had
established
a
special
hold
on
Robert
.
He
was
dying
of
tumour
in
the
throat
,
and
had
become
a
torment
to
himself
and
a
disgust
to
others
.
There
was
a
spark
of
wayward
genius
in
him
,
however
,
which
enabled
him
to
bear
his
ills
with
a
mixture
of
savage
humour
and
clear-eyed
despair
.
In
general
outlook
he
was
much
akin
to
the
author
of
the
City
of
Dreadful
Night
,
whose
poems
he
read
;
the
loathsome
spectacles
of
London
had
filled
him
with
a
kind
of
sombre
energy
of
revolt
against
all
that
is
.
And
now
that
he
could
only
work
intermittently
,
he
would
sit
brooding
for
hours
,
startling
the
fellow-workmen
who
came
in
to
see
him
with
ghastly
Heine-like
jokes
on
his
own
hideous
disease
,
living
no
one
exactly
knew
how
,
though
it
was
supposed
on
supplies
sent
him
by
a
shopkeeper
uncle
in
the
country
,
and
constantly
on
the
verge
,
as
all
his
acquaintances
felt
,
of
some
ingenious
expedient
or
other
for
putting
an
end
to
himself
and
his
troubles
.
He
was
unmarried
,
and
a
misogynist
to
boot
.
No
woman
willingly
went
near
him
,
and
he
tended
himself
.
How
Robert
had
gained
any
hold
upon
him
no
one
could
guess
.
But
from
the
moment
when
Elsmere
,
struck
in
the
lecture-room
by
the
pallid
ugly
face
and
swathed
neck
,
began
regularly
to
go
and
see
him
,
the
elder
man
felt
instinctively
that
virtue
had
gone
out
of
him
,
and
that
in
some
subtle
way
yet
another
life
had
become
pitifully
,
silently
dependent
on
his
own
stock
of
strength
and
comfort
.
His
lecturing
and
teaching
work
also
was
becoming
more
and
more
the
instrument
of
far-reaching
change
,
and
therefore
more
and
more
difficult
to
leave
.
The
thoughts
of
God
,
the
image
of
Jesus
,
which
were
active
and
fruitful
in
his
own
mind
,
had
been
gradually
passing
from
the
one
into
the
many
,
and
Robert
watched
the
sacred
transforming
emotion
,
once
nurtured
at
his
own
heart
,
now
working
among
the
crowd
of
men
and
women
his
fiery
speech
had
gathered
round
him
,
with
a
trembling
joy
,
a
humble
prostration
of
the
soul
before
the
Eternal
Truth
,
no
words
can
fitly
describe
.
With
an
ever-increasing
detachment
of
mind
from
the
objects
of
self
and
sense
,
he
felt
himself
a
tool
in
the
Great
Workman
's
hand
.
'
Accomplish
Thy
purposes
in
me
,
'
was
the
cry
of
his
whole
heart
and
life
;
'
use
me
to
the
utmost
;
spend
every
faculty
I
have
,
O
"
Thou
who
mouldest
men
"
!
'
But
in
the
end
his
work
itself
drove
him
away
.
A
certain
memorable
Saturday
evening
brought
it
about
.
It
had
been
his
custom
of
late
to
spend
an
occasional
evening
hour
after
his
night-school
work
in
the
North
R
—
—
Club
,
of
which
he
was
now
by
invitation
a
member
.
Here
,
in
one
of
the
inner
rooms
,
he
would
stand
against
the
mantelpiece
chatting
,
smoking
often
with
the
men
.
Everything
came
up
in
turn
to
be
discussed
;
and
Robert
was
at
least
as
ready
to
learn
from
the
practical
workers
about
him
as
to
teach
.
But
in
general
these
informal
talks
and
debates
became
the
supplement
of
the
Sunday
lectures
.
Here
he
met
Andrews
and
the
Secularist
crew
face
to
face
;
here
he
grappled
in
Socratic
fashion
with
objections
and
difficulties
,
throwing
into
the
task
all
his
charm
and
all
his
knowledge
,
a
man
at
once
of
no
pretensions
and
of
unfailing
natural
dignity
.
Nothing
,
so
far
,
had
served
his
cause
and
his
influence
so
well
as
these
moments
of
free
discursive
intercourse
.
The
mere
orator
,
the
mere
talker
,
indeed
,
would
never
have
gained
any
permanent
hold
;
but
the
life
behind
gave
weight
to
every
acute
or
eloquent
word
,
and
importance
even
to
those
mere
sallies
of
a
boyish
enthusiasm
which
were
still
common
enough
in
him
.
He
had
already
visited
the
club
once
during
the
week
preceding
this
Saturday
.
On
both
occasions
there
was
much
talk
of
the
growing
popularity
and
efficiency
of
the
Elgood
Street
work
,
of
the
numbers
attending
the
lectures
,
the
story-telling
,
the
Sunday
school
,
and
of
the
way
in
which
the
attractions
of
it
had
spread
into
other
quarters
of
the
parish
,
exciting
there
,
especially
among
the
clergy
of
St.
Wilfrid
's
,
an
anxious
and
critical
attention
.
The
conversation
on
Saturday
night
,
how
ever
,
took
a
turn
of
its
own
.
Robert
felt
in
it
a
new
and
curious
note
of
responsibility
.
The
men
present
were
evidently
beginning
to
regard
the
work
as
their
work
also
,
and
its
success
as
their
interest
.
It
was
perfectly
natural
,
for
not
only
had
most
of
them
been
his
supporters
and
hearers
from
the
beginning
,
but
some
of
them
were
now
actually
teaching
in
the
night-school
or
helping
in
the
various
branches
of
the
large
and
overflowing
boys
'
club
.
He
listened
to
them
for
a
while
in
his
favourite
attitude
,
leaning
against
the
mantelpiece
,
throwing
in
a
word
or
two
now
and
then
as
to
how
this
or
that
part
of
the
work
might
be
amended
or
expanded
.
Then
suddenly
a
kind
of
inspiration
seemed
to
pass
from
them
to
him
.
Bending
forward
as
the
talk
dropped
a
moment
,
he
asked
them
,
with
an
accent
more
emphatic
than
usual
,
whether
in
view
of
this
collaboration
of
theirs
,
which
was
becoming
more
valuable
to
him
and
his
original
helpers
every
week
,
it
was
not
time
for
a
new
departure
.
'
Suppose
I
drop
my
dictatorship
,
'
he
said
,
'
suppose
we
set
up
parliamentary
government
,
are
you
ready
to
take
your
share
?
Are
you
ready
to
combine
,
to
commit
yourselves
?
Are
you
ready
for
an
effort
to
turn
this
work
into
something
lasting
and
organic
?
'
The
men
gathered
round
him
smoked
on
in
silence
for
a
minute
.
Old
Macdonald
,
who
had
been
sitting
contentedly
puffing
away
in
a
corner
peculiarly
his
own
,
and
dedicated
to
the
glorification
—
in
broad
Berwickshire
—
of
the
experimental
philosophers
,
laid
down
his
pipe
and
put
on
his
spectacles
,
that
he
might
grasp
the
situation
better
.
Then
Lestrange
,
in
a
dry
cautious
way
,
asked
Elsmere
to
explain
himself
further
.
Robert
began
to
pace
up
and
down
,
talking
out
his
thought
,
his
eye
kindling
.
But
in
a
minute
or
two
he
stopped
abruptly
,
with
one
of
those
striking
rapid
gestures
characteristic
of
him
.
'
But
no
mere
social
and
educational
body
,
mind
you
!
'
and
his
bright
commanding
look
swept
round
the
circle
.
'
A
good
thing
surely
,
"
yet
is
there
better
than
it
.
"
The
real
difficulty
of
every
social
effort
—
you
know
it
and
I
know
it
—
lies
,
not
in
the
planning
of
the
work
,
but
in
the
kindling
of
will
and
passion
enough
to
carry
it
through
.
And
that
can
only
be
done
by
religion
—
by
faith
.
'
He
went
back
to
his
old
leaning
attitude
,
his
hands
behind
him
.
The
men
gazed
at
him
—
at
the
slim
figure
,
the
transparent
changing
face
—
with
a
kind
of
fascination
,
but
were
still
silent
,
till
Macdonald
said
slowly
,
taking
off
his
glasses
again
and
clearing
his
throat
—
'
You
'll
be
aboot
starrtin
'
a
new
church
,
I
'm
thinkin
'
,
Misther
Elsmere
?
'
'
If
you
like
,
'
said
Robert
impetuously
.
'
I
have
no
fear
of
the
great
words
.
You
can
do
nothing
by
despising
the
past
and
its
products
;
you
can
also
do
nothing
by
being
too
much
afraid
of
them
,
by
letting
them
choke
and
stifle
your
own
life
.
Let
the
new
wine
have
its
new
bottles
if
it
must
,
and
never
mind
words
.
Be
content
to
be
a
new
"
sect
,
"
"
conventicle
,
"
or
what
not
,
so
long
as
you
feel
that
you
are
something
with
a
life
and
purpose
of
its
own
,
in
this
tangle
of
a
world
.
'
Again
he
paused
with
knit
brows
,
thinking
.
Lestrange
sat
with
his
elbows
on
his
knees
studying
him
,
the
spare
gray
hair
brushed
back
tightly
from
the
bony
face
,
on
the
lips
the
slightest
Voltairean
smile
.
Perhaps
it
was
the
coolness
of
his
look
which
insensibly
influenced
Robert
's
next
words
.
'
However
,
I
do
n't
imagine
we
should
call
ourselves
a
church
!
Something
much
humbler
will
do
,
if
you
choose
ever
to
make
anything
of
these
suggestions
of
mine
.
"
Association
,
"
"
society
,
"
"
brotherhood
,
"
what
you
will
!
But
always
,
if
I
can
persuade
you
,
with
something
in
the
name
,
and
everything
in
the
body
itself
,
to
show
that
for
the
members
of
it
life
rests
still
,
as
all
life
worth
having
has
everywhere
rested
on
trust
and
memory
!
—
trust
in
the
God
of
experience
and
history
;
memory
of
that
God
's
work
in
man
,
by
which
alone
we
know
Him
and
can
approach
Him
.
Well
,
of
that
work
—
I
have
tried
to
prove
it
to
you
a
thousand
times
—
Jesus
of
Nazareth
has
become
to
us
,
by
the
evolution
of
circumstance
,
the
most
moving
,
the
most
efficacious
of
all
types
and
epitomes
.
We
have
made
our
protest
—
we
are
daily
making
it
—
in
the
face
of
society
,
against
the
fictions
and
overgrowths
which
at
the
present
time
are
excluding
him
more
and
more
from
human
love
.
But
now
,
suppose
we
turn
our
backs
on
negation
,
and
have
done
with
mere
denial
!
Suppose
we
throw
all
our
energies
into
the
practical
building
of
a
new
house
of
faith
,
the
gathering
and
organising
of
a
new
Company
of
Jesus
!
'
Other
men
had
been
stealing
in
while
he
was
speaking
.
The
little
room
was
nearly
full
.
It
was
strange
,
the
contrast
between
the
squalid
modernness
of
the
scene
,
with
its
incongruous
sights
and
sounds
,
the
Club-room
,
painted
in
various
hideous
shades
of
cinnamon
and
green
,
the
smoke
,
the
lines
and
groups
of
working-men
in
every
sort
of
working
dress
,
the
occasional
rumbling
of
huge
waggons
past
the
window
,
the
click
of
glasses
and
cups
in
the
refreshment
bar
outside
,
and
this
stir
of
spiritual
passion
which
any
competent
observer
might
have
felt
sweeping
through
the
little
crowd
as
Robert
spoke
,
connecting
what
was
passing
there
with
all
that
is
sacred
and
beautiful
in
the
history
of
the
world
.
After
another
silence
a
young
fellow
,
in
a
shabby
velvet
coat
,
stood
up
.
He
was
commonly
known
among
his
fellow-potters
as
'
the
hartist
,
'
because
of
his
long
hair
,
his
little
affectations
of
dress
,
and
his
æsthetic
susceptibilities
generally
.
The
wits
of
the
Club
made
him
their
target
,
but
the
teasing
of
him
that
went
on
was
more
or
less
tempered
by
the
knowledge
that
in
his
own
queer
way
he
had
brought
up
and
educated
two
young
sisters
almost
from
infancy
,
and
that
his
sweetheart
had
been
killed
before
his
eyes
a
year
before
in
a
railway
accident
.
'
I
dun
know
,
'
he
said
in
a
high
treble
voice
,
'
I
dun
know
whether
I
speak
for
anybody
but
myself
—
very
likely
not
;
but
what
I
do
know
,
'
and
he
raised
his
right
hand
and
shook
it
with
a
gesture
of
curious
felicity
,
'
is
this
—
what
Mr.
Elsmere
starts
I
'll
join
;
where
he
goes
I
'll
go
;
what
's
good
enough
for
him
's
good
enough
for
me
.
He
's
put
a
new
heart
and
a
new
stomach
into
me
,
and
what
I
've
got
he
shall
have
,
whenever
it
pleases
'
im
to
call
for
it
!
So
if
he
wants
to
run
a
new
thing
against
or
alongside
the
old
uns
,
and
he
wants
me
to
help
him
with
it
—
I
do
n't
know
as
I
'm
very
clear
what
he
's
driving
at
,
nor
what
good
I
can
do
'
im
—
but
when
Tom
Wheeler
's
asked
for
he
'll
be
there
!
'
A
deep
murmur
,
rising
almost
into
a
shout
of
assent
ran
through
the
little
assembly
.
Robert
bent
forward
,
his
eye
glistening
,
a
moved
acknowledgment
in
his
look
and
gesture
.
But
in
reality
a
pang
ran
through
the
fiery
soul
.
It
was
'
the
personal
estimate
,
'
after
all
,
that
was
shaping
their
future
and
his
and
the
idealist
was
up
in
arms
for
his
idea
,
sublimely
jealous
lest
any
mere
personal
fancy
should
usurp
its
power
and
place
.
A
certain
amount
of
desultory
debate
followed
as
to
the
possible
outlines
of
a
possible
organisation
,
and
as
to
the
observances
which
might
be
devised
to
mark
its
religious
character
.
As
it
flowed
on
the
atmosphere
grew
more
and
more
electric
.
A
new
passion
,
though
still
timid
and
awestruck
,
seemed
to
shine
from
the
looks
of
the
men
standing
or
sitting
round
the
central
figure
.
Even
Lestrange
lost
his
smile
under
the
pressure
of
that
strange
subdued
expectancy
about
him
;
and
when
Robert
walked
homeward
,
about
midnight
,
there
weighed
upon
him
an
almost
awful
sense
of
crisis
,
of
an
expanding
future
.
He
let
himself
in
softly
and
went
into
his
study
.
There
he
sank
into
a
chair
and
fainted
.
He
was
probably
not
unconscious
very
long
,
but
after
he
had
struggled
back
to
his
senses
,
and
was
lying
stretched
on
the
sofa
among
the
books
with
which
it
was
littered
,
the
solitary
candle
in
the
big
room
throwing
weird
shadows
about
him
,
a
moment
of
black
depression
overtook
him
.
It
was
desolate
and
terrible
,
like
a
prescience
of
death
.
How
was
it
he
had
come
to
feel
so
ill
?
Suddenly
,
as
he
looked
back
over
the
preceding
weeks
,
the
physical
weakness
and
disturbance
which
had
marked
them
,
and
which
he
had
struggled
through
,
paying
as
little
heed
as
possible
,
took
shape
,
spectre-like
,
in
his
mind
.
And
at
the
same
moment
a
passionate
rebellion
against
weakness
and
disablement
arose
in
him
.
He
sat
up
dizzily
,
his
head
in
his
hands
.
'
Rest
—
strength
,
'
he
said
to
himself
,
with
strong
inner
resolve
,
'
for
the
work
's
sake
!
'
He
dragged
himself
up
to
bed
and
said
nothing
to
Catherine
till
the
morning
.
Then
,
with
boyish
brightness
,
he
asked
her
to
take
him
and
the
babe
off
without
delay
to
the
Norman
coast
,
vowing
that
he
would
lounge
and
idle
for
six
whole
weeks
if
she
would
let
him
.
Shocked
by
his
looks
,
she
gradually
got
from
him
the
story
of
the
night
before
.
As
he
told
it
,
his
swoon
was
a
mere
untoward
incident
and
hindrance
in
a
spiritual
drama
,
the
thrill
of
which
,
while
he
described
it
,
passed
even
to
her
.
The
contrast
,
however
,
between
the
strong
hopes
she
felt
pulsing
through
him
,
and
his
air
of
fragility
and
exhaustion
,
seemed
to
melt
the
heart
within
her
,
and
make
her
whole
being
,
she
hardly
knew
why
,
one
sensitive
dread
.
She
sat
beside
him
,
her
head
laid
against
his
shoulder
,
oppressed
by
a
strange
and
desolate
sense
of
her
comparatively
small
share
in
this
ardent
life
.
In
spite
of
his
tenderness
and
devotion
,
she
felt
often
as
though
he
were
no
longer
hers
—
as
though
a
craving
hungry
world
,
whose
needs
were
all
dark
and
unintelligible
to
her
,
were
asking
him
from
her
,
claiming
to
use
as
roughly
and
prodigally
as
it
pleased
the
quick
mind
and
delicate
frame
.
As
to
the
schemes
developing
round
him
,
she
could
not
take
them
in
whether
for
protest
or
sympathy
.
She
could
think
only
of
where
to
go
,
what
doctor
to
consult
,
how
she
could
persuade
him
to
stay
away
long
enough
.
There
was
little
surprise
in
Elgood
Street
when
Elsmere
announced
that
he
must
go
off
for
a
while
.
He
so
announced
it
that
everybody
who
heard
him
understood
that
his
temporary
withdrawal
was
to
be
the
mere
preparation
for
a
great
effort
—
the
vigil
before
the
tourney
;
and
the
eager
friendliness
with
which
he
was
met
sent
him
off
in
good
heart
.
Three
or
four
days
later
he
,
Catherine
and
Mary
were
at
Petites
Dalles
,
a
little
place
on
the
Norman
coast
,
near
Fécamp
,
with
which
he
had
first
made
acquaintance
years
before
,
when
he
was
at
Oxford
.
Here
all
that
in
London
had
been
oppressive
in
the
August
heat
suffered
'
a
sea
change
,
'
and
became
so
much
matter
for
physical
delight
.
It
was
fiercely
hot
indeed
.
Every
morning
,
between
five
and
six
o'clock
,
Catherine
would
stand
by
the
little
white-veiled
window
,
in
the
dewy
silence
,
to
watch
the
eastern
shadows
spreading
sharply
already
into
a
blazing
world
of
sun
,
and
see
the
tall
poplar
just
outside
shooting
into
a
quivering
changeless
depth
of
blue
.
Then
,
as
early
as
possible
,
they
would
sally
forth
before
the
glare
became
unbearable
.
The
first
event
of
the
day
was
always
Mary
's
bathe
,
which
gradually
became
a
spectacle
for
the
whole
beach
,
so
ingenious
were
the
blandishments
of
the
father
who
wooed
her
into
the
warm
sandy
shallows
,
and
so
beguiling
the
glee
and
pluck
of
the
two-year-old
English
bébé
.
By
eleven
the
heat
out
of
doors
grew
intolerable
,
and
they
would
stroll
back
—
father
and
mother
and
trailing
child
—
past
the
hotels
on
the
plage
,
along
the
irregular
village
lane
,
to
the
little
house
where
they
had
established
themselves
,
with
Mary
's
nurse
and
a
French
bonne
to
look
after
them
;
would
find
the
green
wooden
shutters
drawn
close
;
the
déjeuner
waiting
for
them
in
the
cool
bare
room
;
and
the
scent
of
the
coffee
penetrating
from
the
kitchen
,
where
the
two
maids
kept
up
a
dumb
but
perpetual
warfare
.
Then
afterwards
Mary
,
emerging
from
her
sun-bonnet
,
would
be
tumbled
into
her
white
bed
upstairs
,
and
lie
,
a
flushed
image
of
sleep
,
till
the
patter
of
her
little
feet
on
the
boards
which
alone
separated
one
storey
from
the
other
,
warned
mother
and
nurse
that
an
imp
of
mischief
was
let
loose
again
.
Meanwhile
Robert
,
in
the
carpetless
salon
,
would
lie
back
in
the
rickety
armchair
which
was
its
only
luxury
,
lazily
dozing
and
dreaming
,
Balzac
,
perhaps
,
in
his
hand
,
but
quite
another
comédie
humaine
unrolling
itself
vaguely
meanwhile
in
the
contriving
optimist
mind
.
Petites
Dalles
was
not
fashionable
yet
,
though
it
aspired
to
be
;
but
it
could
boast
of
a
deputy
,
and
a
senator
,
and
a
professor
of
the
Collège
de
France
,
as
good
as
any
at
Étretat
,
a
tired
journalist
or
two
,
and
a
sprinkling
of
Rouen
men
of
business
.
Robert
soon
made
friends
among
them
,
more
suo
,
by
dint
of
a
rough-and-ready
French
,
spoken
with
the
most
unblushing
accent
imaginable
,
and
lounged
along
the
sands
through
many
an
amusing
and
sociable
hour
with
one
or
other
of
his
new
acquaintances
.
But
by
the
evening
husband
and
wife
would
leave
the
crowded
beach
,
and
mount
by
some
tortuous
dusty
way
on
to
the
high
plateau
through
which
was
cleft
far
below
the
wooded
fissure
of
the
village
.
Here
they
seemed
to
have
climbed
the
beanstalk
into
a
new
world
.
The
rich
Normandy
country
lay
all
round
them
—
the
cornfields
,
the
hedgeless
tracts
of
white-flowered
lucerne
or
crimson
clover
,
dotted
by
the
orchard
trees
which
make
one
vast
garden
of
the
land
as
one
sees
it
from
a
height
.
On
the
fringe
of
the
cliff
,
where
the
soil
became
too
thin
and
barren
even
for
French
cultivation
,
there
was
a
wild
belt
,
half
heather
,
half
tangled
grass
and
flower-growth
,
which
the
English
pair
loved
for
their
own
special
reasons
.
Bathed
in
light
,
cooled
by
the
evening
wind
,
the
patches
of
heather
glowing
,
the
tall
grasses
swaying
in
the
breeze
,
there
were
moments
when
its
wide
,
careless
,
dusty
beauty
reminded
them
poignantly
,
and
yet
most
sweetly
,
of
the
home
of
their
first
unclouded
happiness
,
of
the
Surrey
commons
and
wildernesses
.
One
evening
they
were
sitting
in
the
warm
dusk
by
the
edge
of
a
little
dip
of
heather
sheltered
by
a
tuft
of
broom
,
when
suddenly
they
heard
the
purring
sound
of
the
night-jar
,
and
immediately
after
the
bird
itself
lurched
past
them
,
and
as
it
disappeared
into
the
darkness
they
caught
several
times
the
characteristic
click
of
the
wing
.
Catherine
raised
her
hand
and
laid
it
on
Robert
's
.
The
sudden
tears
dropped
on
to
her
cheeks
.
'
Did
you
hear
it
,
Robert
?
'
He
drew
her
to
him
.
These
involuntary
signs
of
an
abiding
pain
in
her
always
smote
him
to
the
heart
.
'
I
am
not
unhappy
,
Robert
,
'
she
said
at
last
,
raising
her
head
.
'
No
;
if
you
will
only
get
well
and
strong
.
I
have
submitted
.
It
is
not
for
myself
,
but
—
—
'
For
what
then
?
Merely
the
touchingness
of
mortal
things
as
such
?
—
of
youth
,
of
hope
,
of
memory
?
Choking
down
a
sob
,
she
looked
seaward
over
the
curling
flame-coloured
waves
,
while
he
held
her
hand
close
and
tenderly
.
No
—
she
was
not
unhappy
.
Something
,
indeed
,
had
gone
for
ever
out
of
that
early
joy
.
Her
life
had
been
caught
and
nipped
in
the
great
inexorable
wheel
of
things
.
It
would
go
in
some
sense
maimed
to
the
end
.
But
the
bitter
self-torturing
of
that
first
endless
year
was
over
.
Love
,
and
her
husband
,
and
the
thousand
subtle
forces
of
a
changing
world
had
conquered
.
She
would
live
and
die
steadfast
to
the
old
faiths
.
But
her
present
mind
and
its
outlook
was
no
more
the
mind
of
her
early
married
life
than
the
Christian
philosophy
of
to-day
is
the
Christian
philosophy
of
the
Middle
Ages
.
She
was
not
conscious
of
change
,
but
change
there
was
.
She
had
,
in
fact
,
undergone
that
dissociation
of
the
moral
judgment
from
a
special
series
of
religious
formulæ
which
is
the
crucial
,
the
epoch-making
fact
of
our
day
.
'
Unbelief
,
'
says
the
orthodox
preacher
,
'
is
sin
,
and
implies
it
'
:
and
while
he
speaks
,
the
saint
in
the
unbeliever
gently
smiles
down
his
argument
,
and
suddenly
,
in
the
rebel
of
yesterday
men
see
the
rightful
heir
of
to-morrow
.
CHAPTER
XLVII
Meanwhile
the
Leyburns
were
at
Burwood
again
.
Rose
's
summer
,
indeed
,
was
much
varied
by
visits
to
country
houses
—
many
of
them
belonging
to
friends
and
acquaintances
of
the
Flaxman
family
—
by
concerts
,
and
the
demands
of
several
new
and
exciting
artistic
friendships
.
But
she
was
seldom
loth
to
come
back
to
the
little
bare
valley
and
the
gray-walled
house
.
Even
the
rain
which
poured
down
in
August
,
quite
unabashed
by
any
consciousness
of
fine
weather
elsewhere
,
was
not
as
intolerable
to
her
as
in
past
days
.
The
girl
was
not
herself
;
there
was
visible
in
her
not
only
that
general
softening
and
deepening
of
character
which
had
been
the
consequence
of
her
trouble
in
the
spring
,
but
a
painful
ennui
she
could
hardly
disguise
,
a
longing
for
she
knew
not
what
.
She
was
beginning
to
take
the
homage
paid
to
her
gift
and
her
beauty
with
a
quiet
dignity
,
which
was
in
no
sense
false
modesty
,
but
implied
a
certain
clearness
of
vision
,
curious
and
disquieting
in
so
young
and
dazzling
a
creature
.
And
when
she
came
home
from
her
travels
she
would
develop
a
taste
for
long
walks
,
breasting
the
mountains
in
rain
or
sun
,
penetrating
to
their
austerest
solitudes
alone
,
as
though
haunted
by
that
profound
saying
of
Obermann
,
'
Man
is
not
made
for
enjoyment
only
—
la
tristesse
fait
aussi
partie
de
ses
vastes
besoins
.
'
What
,
indeed
,
was
it
that
ailed
her
?
In
her
lonely
moments
,
especially
in
those
moments
among
the
high
fells
,
beside
some
little
tarn
or
streamlet
,
while
the
sheets
of
mist
swept
by
her
,
or
the
great
clouds
dappled
the
spreading
sides
of
the
hills
,
she
thought
often
of
Langham
—
of
that
first
thrill
of
passion
which
had
passed
through
her
,
delusive
and
abortive
,
like
one
of
those
first
thrills
of
spring
which
bring
out
the
buds
,
only
to
provide
victims
for
the
frost
.
Now
with
her
again
'
a
moral
east
wind
was
blowing
.
'
The
passion
was
gone
.
The
thought
of
Langham
still
roused
in
her
a
pity
that
seemed
to
strain
at
her
heartstrings
.
But
was
it
really
she
,
really
this
very
Rose
,
who
had
rested
for
that
one
intoxicating
instant
on
his
breast
?
She
felt
a
sort
of
bitter
shame
over
her
own
shallowness
of
feeling
.
She
must
surely
be
a
poor
creature
,
else
how
could
such
a
thing
have
befallen
her
and
have
left
so
little
trace
behind
?
And
then
,
her
hand
dabbling
in
the
water
,
her
face
raised
to
the
blind
friendly
mountains
,
she
would
go
dreaming
far
afield
.
Little
vignettes
of
London
would
come
and
go
on
the
inner
retina
;
smiles
and
sighs
would
follow
one
another
.
'
How
kind
he
was
that
time
!
how
amusing
this
!
'
Or
,
'
How
provoking
he
was
that
afternoon
!
how
cold
that
evening
!
'
Nothing
else
—
the
pronoun
remained
ambiguous
.
'
I
want
a
friend
!
'
she
said
to
herself
once
as
she
was
sitting
far
up
in
the
bosom
of
High
Fell
,
'
I
want
a
friend
badly
.
Yet
my
lover
deserts
me
,
and
I
send
away
my
friend
!
'
One
afternoon
Mrs.
Thornburgh
,
the
vicar
,
and
Rose
were
wandering
round
the
churchyard
together
,
enjoying
a
break
of
sunny
weather
after
days
of
rain
.
Mrs.
Thornburgh
's
personal
accent
,
so
to
speak
,
had
grown
perhaps
a
little
more
defined
,
a
little
more
emphatic
even
,
than
when
we
first
knew
her
.
The
vicar
,
on
the
other
hand
,
was
a
trifle
grayer
,
a
trifle
more
submissive
,
as
though
on
the
whole
,
in
the
long
conjugal
contest
of
life
,
he
was
getting
clearly
worsted
as
the
years
went
on
.
But
the
performance
through
which
his
wife
was
now
taking
him
tried
him
exceptionally
,
and
she
only
kept
him
to
it
with
difficulty
.
She
had
had
an
attack
of
bronchitis
in
the
spring
,
and
was
still
somewhat
delicate
—
a
fact
which
to
his
mind
gave
her
an
unfair
advantage
of
him
.
For
she
would
make
use
of
it
to
keep
constantly
before
him
ideas
which
he
disliked
,
and
in
which
he
considered
she
took
a
morbid
and
unbecoming
pleasure
.
The
vicar
was
of
opinion
that
when
his
latter
end
overtook
him
he
should
meet
it
on
the
whole
as
courageously
as
other
men
.
But
he
was
altogether
averse
to
dwelling
upon
it
,
or
the
adjuncts
of
it
,
beforehand
.
Mrs.
Thornburgh
,
however
,
since
her
illness
had
awoke
to
that
inquisitive
affectionate
interest
in
these
very
adjuncts
which
many
women
feel
.
And
it
was
extremely
disagreeable
to
the
vicar
.
At
the
present
moment
she
was
engaged
in
choosing
the
precise
spots
in
the
little
churchyard
where
it
seemed
to
her
it
would
be
pleasant
to
rest
.
There
was
one
corner
in
particular
which
attracted
her
,
and
she
stood
now
looking
at
it
with
measuring
eyes
and
dissatisfied
mouth
.
'
William
,
I
wish
you
would
come
here
and
help
me
!
'
The
vicar
took
no
notice
,
but
went
on
talking
to
Rose
.
'
William
!
'
imperatively
.
The
vicar
turned
unwillingly
.
'
You
know
,
William
,
if
you
would
n't
mind
lying
with
your
feet
that
way
,
there
would
be
just
room
for
me
.
But
,
of
course
,
if
you
will
have
them
the
other
way
—
—
'
The
shoulders
in
the
old
black
silk
mantle
went
up
,
and
the
gray
curls
shook
dubiously
.
The
vicar
's
countenance
showed
plainly
that
he
thought
the
remark
worse
than
irrelevant
.
'
My
dear
,
'
he
said
crossly
,
'
I
am
not
thinking
of
those
things
,
nor
do
I
wish
to
think
of
them
.
Everything
has
its
time
and
place
.
It
is
close
on
tea
,
and
Miss
Rose
says
she
must
be
going
home
.
'
Mrs.
Thornburgh
again
shook
her
head
,
this
time
with
a
disapproving
sigh
.
'
You
talk
,
William
,
'
she
said
severely
,
'
as
if
you
were
a
young
man
,
instead
of
being
turned
sixty-six
last
birthday
.
'
And
again
she
measured
the
spaces
with
her
eye
,
checking
the
results
aloud
.
But
the
vicar
was
obdurately
deaf
.
He
strolled
on
with
Rose
,
who
was
chattering
to
him
about
a
visit
to
Manchester
,
and
the
little
church
gate
clicked
behind
them
.
Hearing
it
,
Mrs.
Thornburgh
relaxed
her
measurements
.
They
were
only
really
interesting
to
her
after
all
when
the
vicar
was
by
.
She
hurried
after
them
as
fast
as
her
short
squat
figure
would
allow
,
and
stopped
midway
to
make
an
exclamation
.
'
A
carriage
!
'
she
said
,
shading
her
eyes
with
a
very
plump
hand
,
'
stopping
at
Greybarns
!
'
The
one
road
of
the
valley
was
visible
from
the
churchyard
,
winding
along
the
bottom
of
the
shallow
green
trough
,
for
at
least
two
miles
.
Greybarns
was
a
farmhouse
just
beyond
Burwood
,
about
half
a
mile
away
.
Mrs.
Thornburgh
moved
on
,
her
matronly
face
aglow
with
interest
.
'
Mary
Jenkinson
taken
ill
!
'
she
said
.
'
Of
course
,
that
's
Doctor
Baker
!
Well
,
it
's
to
be
hoped
it
wo
n't
be
twins
this
time
.
But
,
as
I
told
her
last
Sunday
,
"
It
's
constitutional
,
my
dear
.
"
I
knew
a
woman
who
had
three
pairs
!
Five
o'clock
now
.
Well
,
about
seven
it
'll
be
worth
while
sending
to
inquire
.
'
When
she
overtook
the
vicar
and
his
companion
,
she
began
to
whisper
certain
particulars
into
the
ear
that
was
not
on
Rose
's
side
.
The
vicar
,
who
,
like
Uncle
Toby
,
was
possessed
of
a
fine
natural
modesty
,
would
have
preferred
that
his
wife
should
refrain
from
whispering
on
these
topics
in
Rose
's
presence
.
But
he
submitted
lest
opposition
should
provoke
her
into
still
more
audible
improprieties
;
and
Rose
walked
on
a
step
or
two
in
front
of
the
pair
,
her
eyes
twinkling
a
little
.
At
the
vicarage
gate
she
was
let
off
without
the
customary
final
gossip
.
Mrs.
Thornburgh
was
so
much
occupied
in
the
fate
hanging
over
Mary
Jenkinson
that
she
,
for
once
,
forgot
to
catechise
Rose
as
to
any
marriageable
young
men
she
might
have
come
across
in
a
recent
visit
to
a
great
country-house
of
the
neighbourhood
;
an
operation
which
formed
the
invariable
pendant
to
any
of
Rose
's
absences
.
So
,
with
a
smiling
nod
to
them
both
,
the
girl
turned
homewards
.
As
she
did
so
she
became
aware
of
a
man
's
figure
walking
along
the
space
of
road
between
Greybarns
and
Burwood
,
the
western
light
behind
it
.
Dr.
Baker
?
But
even
granting
that
Mrs.
Jenkinson
had
brought
him
five
miles
on
a
false
alarm
,
in
the
provoking
manner
of
matrons
,
the
shortest
professional
visit
could
not
be
over
in
this
time
.
She
looked
again
,
shading
her
eyes
.
She
was
nearing
the
gate
of
Burwood
,
and
involuntarily
slackened
step
.
The
man
who
was
approaching
,
catching
sight
of
the
slim
girlish
figure
in
the
broad
hat
and
pink
and
white
cotton
dress
,
hurried
up
.
The
colour
rushed
to
Rose
's
cheek
.
In
another
minute
she
and
Hugh
Flaxman
were
face
to
face
.
She
could
not
hide
her
astonishment
.
'
Why
are
you
not
in
Scotland
?
'
she
said
after
she
had
given
him
her
hand
.
'
Lady
Helen
told
me
last
week
she
expected
you
in
Ross-shire
.
'
Directly
the
words
left
her
mouth
she
felt
she
had
given
him
an
opening
.
And
why
had
Nature
plagued
her
with
this
trick
of
blushing
?
'
Because
I
am
here
!
'
he
said
smiling
,
his
keen
dancing
eyes
looking
down
upon
her
.
He
was
bronzed
as
she
had
never
seen
him
.
And
never
had
he
seemed
to
bring
with
him
such
an
atmosphere
of
cool
pleasant
strength
.
'
I
have
slain
so
much
since
the
first
of
July
that
I
can
slay
no
more
.
I
am
not
like
other
men
.
The
Nimrod
in
me
is
easily
gorged
,
and
goes
to
sleep
after
a
while
.
So
this
is
Burwood
?
He
had
caught
her
just
on
the
little
sweep
leading
to
the
gate
,
and
now
his
eye
swept
quickly
over
the
modest
old
house
,
with
its
trim
garden
,
its
overgrown
porch
and
open
casement
windows
.
She
dared
not
ask
him
again
why
he
was
there
.
In
the
properest
manner
she
invited
him
'
to
come
in
and
see
mamma
.
'
'
I
hope
Mrs.
Leyburn
is
better
than
she
was
in
town
?
I
shall
be
delighted
to
see
her
.
But
must
you
go
in
so
soon
?
I
left
my
carriage
half
a
mile
below
,
and
have
been
revelling
in
the
sun
and
air
.
I
am
loth
to
go
indoors
yet
awhile
.
Are
you
busy
?
Would
it
trouble
you
to
put
me
in
the
way
to
the
head
of
the
valley
?
Then
,
if
you
will
allow
me
,
I
will
present
myself
later
.
'
Rose
thought
his
request
as
little
in
the
ordinary
line
of
things
as
his
appearance
.
But
she
turned
and
walked
beside
him
,
pointing
out
the
crags
at
the
head
,
the
great
sweep
of
High
Fell
,
and
the
pass
over
to
Ullswater
,
with
as
much
sangfroid
as
she
was
mistress
of
.
He
,
on
his
side
,
informed
her
that
on
his
way
to
Scotland
he
had
bethought
himself
that
he
had
never
seen
the
Lakes
,
that
he
had
stopped
at
Whinborough
,
was
bent
on
walking
over
the
High
Fell
pass
to
Ullswater
,
and
making
his
way
thence
to
Ambleside
,
Grasmere
,
and
Keswick
.
'
But
you
are
much
too
late
to-day
to
get
to
Ullswater
?
'
cried
Rose
incautiously
.
'
Certainly
.
You
see
my
hotel
,
'
and
he
pointed
,
smiling
,
to
a
white
farmhouse
standing
just
at
the
bend
of
the
valley
,
where
the
road
turned
towards
Whinborough
.
'
I
persuaded
the
good
woman
there
to
give
me
a
bed
for
the
night
,
took
my
carriage
a
little
farther
,
then
,
knowing
I
had
friends
in
these
parts
,
I
came
on
to
explore
.
'
Rose
angrily
felt
her
flush
getting
deeper
and
deeper
.
'
You
are
the
first
tourist
,
'
she
said
coolly
,
'
who
has
ever
stayed
in
Whindale
.
'
'
Tourist
!
I
repudiate
the
name
.
I
am
a
worshipper
at
the
shrine
of
Wordsworth
and
Nature
.
Helen
and
I
long
ago
defined
a
tourist
as
a
being
with
straps
.
I
defy
you
to
discover
a
strap
about
me
,
and
I
left
my
Murray
in
the
railway
carriage
.
'
He
looked
at
her
laughing
.
She
laughed
too
.
The
infection
of
his
strong
sunny
presence
was
irresistible
.
In
London
it
had
been
so
easy
to
stand
on
her
dignity
,
to
remember
whenever
he
was
friendly
that
the
night
before
he
had
been
distant
.
In
these
green
solitudes
it
was
not
easy
to
be
anything
but
natural
—
the
child
of
the
moment
!
'
You
are
neither
more
practical
nor
more
economical
than
when
I
saw
you
last
,
'
she
said
demurely
.
'
When
did
you
leave
Norway
?
'
They
wandered
on
past
the
vicarage
talking
fast
.
Mr.
Flaxman
,
who
had
been
joined
for
a
time
,
on
his
fishing
tour
,
by
Lord
Waynflete
,
was
giving
her
an
amusing
account
of
the
susceptibility
to
titles
shown
by
the
primitive
democrats
of
Norway
.
As
they
passed
a
gap
in
the
vicarage
hedge
,
laughing
and
chatting
.
Rose
became
aware
of
a
window
and
a
gray
head
hastily
withdrawn
.
Mr.
Flaxman
was
puzzled
by
the
merry
flash
,
instantly
suppressed
,
that
shot
across
her
face
.
Presently
they
reached
the
hamlet
of
High
Close
,
and
the
house
where
Mary
Backhouse
died
,
and
where
her
father
and
the
poor
bedridden
Jim
still
lived
.
They
mounted
the
path
behind
it
,
and
plunged
into
the
hazel
plantation
which
had
sheltered
Robert
and
Catherine
on
a
memorable
night
.
But
when
they
were
through
it
,
Rose
turned
to
the
right
along
a
scrambling
path
leading
to
the
top
of
the
first
great
shoulder
of
High
Fell
.
It
was
a
steep
climb
,
though
a
short
one
,
and
it
seemed
to
Rose
that
when
she
had
once
let
him
help
her
over
a
rock
her
hand
was
never
her
own
again
.
He
kept
it
an
almost
constant
prisoner
on
one
pretext
or
another
till
they
were
at
the
top
.
Then
she
sank
down
on
a
rock
out
of
breath
.
He
stood
beside
her
,
lifting
his
brown
wideawake
from
his
brow
.
The
air
below
had
been
warm
and
relaxing
.
Here
it
played
upon
them
both
with
a
delicious
life-giving
freshness
.
He
looked
round
on
the
great
hollow
bosom
of
the
fell
,
the
crags
buttressing
it
on
either
hand
,
the
winding
greenness
of
the
valley
,
the
white
sparkle
of
the
river
.
'
It
reminds
me
a
little
of
Norway
.
The
same
austere
and
frugal
beauty
—
the
same
bare
valley
floors
.
But
no
pines
,
no
peaks
,
no
fiords
!
'
'
No
!
'
said
Rose
scornfully
,
'
we
are
not
Norway
,
and
we
are
not
Switzerland
.
To
prevent
disappointment
,
I
may
at
once
inform
you
that
we
have
no
glaciers
,
and
that
there
is
perhaps
only
one
place
in
the
district
where
a
man
who
was
not
an
idiot
could
succeed
in
killing
himself
.
'
He
looked
at
her
,
calmly
smiling
.
'
You
are
angry
,
'
he
said
,
'
because
I
make
comparisons
.
You
are
wholly
on
a
wrong
scent
.
I
never
saw
a
scene
in
the
world
that
pleased
me
half
as
much
as
this
bare
valley
,
that
gray
roof
'
—
and
he
pointed
to
Burwood
among
its
trees
—
'
and
this
knoll
of
rocky
ground
.
'
His
look
travelled
back
to
her
,
and
her
eyes
sank
beneath
it
.
He
threw
himself
down
on
the
short
grass
beside
her
.
'
It
rained
this
morning
,
'
she
still
had
the
spirit
to
murmur
under
her
breath
.
He
took
not
the
smallest
heed
.
'
Do
you
know
,
'
he
said
—
and
his
voice
dropped
—
'
can
you
guess
at
all
why
I
am
here
to-day
?
'
'
You
had
never
seen
the
Lakes
,
'
she
repeated
in
a
prim
voice
,
her
eyes
still
cast
down
,
the
corners
of
her
mouth
twitching
.
'
You
stopped
at
Whinborough
,
intending
to
take
the
pass
over
to
Ullswater
,
thence
to
make
your
way
to
Ambleside
and
Keswick
—
or
was
it
to
Keswick
and
Ambleside
?
'
She
looked
up
innocently
.
But
the
flashing
glance
she
met
abashed
her
again
.
'
Taquine
!
'
he
said
,
'
but
you
shall
not
laugh
me
out
of
countenance
.
If
I
said
all
that
to
you
just
now
,
may
I
be
forgiven
.
One
purpose
,
one
only
,
brought
me
from
Norway
,
forbade
me
to
go
to
Scotland
,
drew
me
to
Whinborough
,
guided
me
up
your
valley
—
the
purpose
of
seeing
your
face
!
'
It
could
not
be
said
at
that
precise
moment
that
he
had
attained
it
.
Rather
she
seemed
bent
on
hiding
that
face
quite
away
from
him
.
It
seemed
to
him
an
age
before
,
drawn
by
the
magnetism
of
his
look
,
her
hands
dropped
,
and
she
faced
him
,
crimson
,
her
breath
fluttering
a
little
.
Then
she
would
have
spoken
,
but
he
would
not
let
her
.
Very
tenderly
and
quietly
his
hand
possessed
itself
of
hers
as
he
knelt
beside
her
.
'
I
have
been
in
exile
for
two
months
—
you
sent
me
.
I
saw
that
I
troubled
you
in
London
.
You
thought
I
was
pursuing
you
—
pressing
you
.
Your
manner
said
"
Go
!
"
and
I
went
.
But
do
you
think
that
for
one
day
,
or
hour
,
or
moment
I
have
thought
of
anything
else
in
those
Norway
woods
but
of
you
and
of
this
blessed
moment
when
I
should
be
at
your
feet
,
as
I
am
now
?
'
She
trembled
.
Her
hand
seemed
to
leap
in
his
.
His
gaze
melted
,
enwrapped
her
.
He
bent
forward
.
In
another
moment
her
silence
would
have
so
answered
for
her
that
his
covetous
arms
would
have
stolen
about
her
for
good
and
all
.
But
suddenly
a
kind
of
shiver
ran
through
her
—
a
shiver
which
was
half
memory
,
half
shame
.
She
drew
back
violently
,
covering
her
eyes
with
her
hand
.
'
Oh
no
,
no
!
'
she
cried
,
and
her
other
hand
struggled
to
get
free
,
'
do
n't
,
do
n't
talk
to
me
so
—
I
have
a
—
a
—
confession
.
'
He
watched
her
,
his
lips
trembling
a
little
,
a
smile
of
the
most
exquisite
indulgence
and
understanding
dawning
in
his
eyes
.
Was
she
going
to
confess
to
him
what
he
knew
so
well
already
?
If
he
could
only
force
her
to
say
it
on
his
breast
.
But
she
held
him
at
arm
's
length
.
'
You
remember
—
you
remember
Mr.
Langham
?
'
'
Remember
him
!
'
echoed
Mr.
Flaxman
fervently
.
'
That
thought-reading
night
at
Lady
Charlotte
's
,
on
the
way
home
,
he
spoke
to
me
.
I
said
I
loved
him
.
I
did
love
him
;
I
let
him
kiss
me
!
'
Her
flush
had
quite
faded
.
He
could
hardly
tell
whether
she
was
yielding
or
defiant
as
the
words
burst
from
her
.
An
expression
,
half
trouble
,
half
compunction
,
came
into
his
face
.
'
I
knew
,
'
he
said
very
low
;
'
or
rather
,
I
guessed
.
'
And
for
an
instant
it
occurred
to
him
to
unburden
himself
,
to
ask
her
pardon
for
that
espionage
of
his
.
But
no
,
no
;
not
till
he
had
her
safe
.
'
I
guessed
,
I
mean
,
that
there
had
been
something
grave
between
you
.
I
saw
you
were
sad
.
I
would
have
given
the
world
to
comfort
you
.
'
Her
lip
quivered
childishly
.
'
I
said
I
loved
him
that
night
.
The
next
morning
he
wrote
to
me
that
it
could
never
be
.
'
He
looked
at
her
a
moment
embarrassed
.
The
conversation
was
not
easy
.
Then
the
smile
broke
once
more
.
'
And
you
have
forgotten
him
as
he
deserved
.
If
I
were
not
sure
of
that
I
could
wish
him
all
the
tortures
of
the
Inferno
!
As
it
is
,
I
cannot
think
of
him
;
I
cannot
let
you
think
of
him
.
Sweet
,
do
you
know
that
ever
since
I
first
saw
you
the
one
thought
of
my
days
,
the
dream
of
my
nights
,
the
purpose
of
my
whole
life
,
has
been
to
win
you
?
There
was
another
in
the
field
;
I
knew
it
.
I
stood
by
and
waited
.
He
failed
you
—
I
knew
he
must
in
some
form
or
other
.
Then
I
was
hasty
,
and
you
resented
it
.
Little
tyrant
,
you
made
yourself
a
Rose
with
many
thorns
!
But
,
tell
me
,
tell
me
,
it
is
all
over
—
your
pain
,
my
waiting
.
Make
yourself
sweet
to
me
!
unfold
to
me
at
last
?
'
An
instant
she
wavered
.
His
bliss
was
almost
in
his
grasp
.
Then
she
sprang
up
,
and
Flaxman
found
himself
standing
by
her
,
rebuffed
and
surprised
.
'
No
,
no
!
'
she
cried
,
holding
out
her
hands
to
him
though
all
the
time
.
'
Oh
,
it
is
too
soon
!
I
should
despise
myself
,
I
do
despise
myself
.
It
tortures
me
that
I
can
change
and
forget
so
easily
;
it
ought
to
torture
you
.
Oh
,
do
n't
ask
me
yet
to
—
to
—
—
'
'
To
be
my
wife
,
'
he
said
calmly
,
his
cheek
a
little
flushed
,
his
eye
meeting
hers
with
a
passion
in
it
that
strove
so
hard
for
self-control
it
was
almost
sternness
.
'
Not
yet
!
'
she
pleaded
,
and
then
,
after
a
moment
's
hesitation
,
she
broke
into
the
most
appealing
smiles
,
though
the
tears
were
in
her
eyes
,
hurrying
out
the
broken
,
beseeching
words
.
'
I
want
a
friend
so
much
—
a
real
friend
.
Since
Catherine
left
I
have
had
no
one
.
I
have
been
running
riot
.
Take
me
in
hand
.
Write
to
me
,
scold
me
,
advise
me
,
I
will
be
your
pupil
,
I
will
tell
you
everything
.
You
seem
to
me
so
fearfully
wise
,
so
much
older
.
Oh
,
do
n't
be
vexed
.
And
—
and
—
in
six
months
—
—
'
She
turned
away
,
rosy
as
her
name
.
He
held
her
still
,
so
rigidly
,
that
her
hands
were
almost
hurt
.
The
shadow
of
the
hat
fell
over
her
eyes
;
the
delicate
outlines
of
the
neck
and
shoulders
in
the
pretty
pale
dress
were
defined
against
the
green
hill
background
.
He
studied
her
deliberately
,
a
hundred
different
expressions
sweeping
across
his
face
.
A
debate
of
the
most
feverish
interest
was
going
on
within
him
.
Her
seriousness
at
the
moment
,
the
chances
of
the
future
,
her
character
,
his
own
—
all
these
knotty
points
entered
into
it
,
had
to
be
weighed
and
decided
with
lightning
rapidity
.
But
Hugh
Flaxman
was
born
under
a
lucky
star
,
and
the
natal
charm
held
good
.
At
last
he
gave
a
long
breath
;
he
stooped
and
kissed
her
hands
.
'
So
be
it
.
For
six
months
I
will
be
your
guardian
,
your
friend
,
your
teasing
implacable
censor
.
At
the
end
of
that
time
I
will
be
—
well
,
never
mind
what
.
I
give
you
fair
warning
.
'
He
released
her
.
Rose
clasped
her
hands
before
her
and
stood
drooping
.
Now
that
she
had
gained
her
point
,
all
her
bright
mocking
independence
seemed
to
have
vanished
.
She
might
have
been
in
reality
the
tremulous
timid
child
she
seemed
.
His
spirits
rose
;
he
began
to
like
the
rôle
she
had
assigned
to
him
.
The
touch
of
unexpectedness
,
in
all
she
said
and
did
,
acted
with
exhilarating
force
on
his
fastidious
romantic
sense
.
'
Now
,
then
,
'
he
said
,
picking
up
her
gloves
from
the
grass
,
'
you
have
given
me
my
rights
;
I
will
begin
to
exercise
them
at
once
.
I
must
take
you
home
,
the
clouds
are
coming
up
again
,
and
on
the
way
will
you
kindly
give
me
a
full
,
true
,
and
minute
account
of
these
two
months
during
which
you
have
been
so
dangerously
left
to
your
own
devices
?
'
She
hesitated
,
and
began
to
speak
with
difficulty
,
her
eyes
on
the
ground
.
But
by
the
time
they
were
in
the
main
Shanmoor
path
again
,
and
she
was
not
so
weakly
dependent
on
his
physical
aid
,
her
spirits
too
returned
.
Pacing
along
with
her
hands
behind
her
,
she
began
by
degrees
to
throw
into
her
accounts
of
her
various
visits
and
performances
plenty
of
her
natural
malice
.
And
after
a
bit
,
as
that
strange
storm
of
feeling
which
had
assailed
her
on
the
mountain-top
abated
something
of
its
bewildering
force
,
certain
old
grievances
began
to
raise
very
lively
heads
in
her
.
The
smart
of
Lady
Fauntleroy
's
ball
was
still
there
;
she
had
not
yet
forgiven
him
all
those
relations
;
and
the
teasing
image
of
Lady
Florence
woke
up
in
her
.
'
It
seems
to
me
,
'
he
said
at
last
dryly
,
as
he
opened
a
gate
for
her
not
far
from
Burwood
,
'
that
you
have
been
making
yourself
agreeable
to
a
vast
number
of
people
.
In
my
new
capacity
of
censor
I
should
like
to
warn
you
that
there
is
nothing
so
bad
for
the
character
as
universal
popularity
.
'
'
I
have
not
got
a
thousand
and
one
important
cousins
!
'
she
exclaimed
,
her
lip
curling
.
'
If
I
want
to
please
,
I
must
take
pains
,
else
"
nobody
minds
me
.
"
'
He
looked
at
her
attentively
,
his
handsome
face
aglow
with
animation
.
'
What
can
you
mean
by
that
?
'
he
said
slowly
.
But
she
was
quite
silent
,
her
head
well
in
air
.
'
Cousins
?
'
he
repeated
.
'
Cousins
?
And
clearly
meant
as
a
taunt
at
me
!
Now
when
did
you
see
my
cousins
?
I
grant
that
I
possess
a
monstrous
and
indefensible
number
.
I
have
it
.
You
think
that
at
Lady
Fauntleroy
's
ball
I
devoted
myself
too
much
to
my
family
,
and
too
little
to
—
—
'
'
Not
at
all
!
'
cried
Rose
hastily
,
adding
,
with
charming
incoherence
,
while
she
twisted
a
sprig
of
honeysuckle
in
her
restless
fingers
,
'
Some
cousins
of
course
are
pretty
.
'
He
paused
an
instant
:
then
a
light
broke
over
his
face
,
and
his
burst
of
quiet
laughter
was
infinitely
pleasant
to
hear
.
Rose
got
redder
and
redder
.
She
realised
dimly
that
she
was
hardly
maintaining
the
spirit
of
their
contract
,
and
that
he
was
studying
her
with
eyes
inconveniently
bright
and
penetrating
.
'
Shall
I
quote
to
you
,
'
he
said
,
'
a
sentence
of
Sterne
's
?
If
it
violate
our
contract
I
must
plead
extenuating
circumstances
.
Sterne
is
admonishing
a
young
friend
as
to
his
manners
in
society
:
"
You
are
in
love
,
"
he
says
.
"
Tant
mieux
.
But
do
not
imagine
that
the
fact
bestows
on
you
a
licence
to
behave
like
a
bear
towards
all
the
rest
of
the
world
.
Affection
may
surely
conduct
thee
through
an
avenue
of
women
to
her
who
possesses
thy
heart
without
tearing
the
flounces
of
any
of
their
petticoats
"
—
not
even
those
of
little
cousins
of
seventeen
!
I
say
this
,
you
will
observe
,
in
the
capacity
you
have
assigned
me
.
In
another
capacity
I
venture
to
think
I
could
justify
myself
still
better
.
'
'
My
guardian
and
director
,
'
cried
Rose
,
'
must
not
begin
his
functions
by
misleading
and
sophistical
quotations
from
the
classics
!
'
He
did
not
answer
for
a
moment
.
They
were
at
the
gate
of
Burwood
,
under
a
thick
screen
of
wild
cherry
trees
.
The
gate
was
half
open
,
and
his
hand
was
on
it
.
'
And
my
pupil
,
'
he
said
,
bending
to
her
,
'
must
not
begin
by
challenging
the
prisoner
whose
hands
she
has
bound
,
or
he
will
not
answer
for
the
consequences
!
'
His
words
were
threatening
,
but
his
voice
,
his
fine
expressive
face
,
were
infinitely
sweet
.
By
a
kind
of
fascination
she
never
afterwards
understood
,
Rose
for
answer
startled
him
and
herself
.
She
bent
her
head
;
she
laid
her
lips
on
the
hand
which
held
the
gate
,
and
then
she
was
through
it
in
an
instant
.
He
followed
her
in
vain
.
He
never
overtook
her
till
at
the
drawing-room
door
she
paused
with
amazing
dignity
.
'
Mamma
,
'
she
said
,
throwing
it
open
,
'
here
is
Mr.
Flaxman
.
He
is
come
from
Norway
,
and
is
on
his
way
to
Ullswater
.
I
will
go
and
speak
to
Margaret
about
tea
.
'
CHAPTER
XLVIII
After
the
little
incident
recorded
at
the
end
of
the
preceding
chapter
,
Hugh
Flaxman
may
be
forgiven
if
,
as
he
walked
home
along
the
valley
that
night
towards
the
farmhouse
where
he
had
established
himself
,
he
entertained
a
very
comfortable
scepticism
as
to
the
permanence
of
that
curious
contract
into
which
Rose
had
just
forced
him
.
However
,
he
was
quite
mistaken
.
Rose
's
maiden
dignity
avenged
itself
abundantly
on
Hugh
Flaxman
for
the
injuries
it
had
received
at
the
hands
of
Langham
.
The
restraints
,
the
anomalies
,
the
hairsplittings
of
the
situation
delighted
her
ingenuous
youth
.
'
I
am
free
—
he
is
free
.
We
will
be
friends
for
six
months
.
Possibly
we
may
not
suit
one
another
at
all
.
If
we
do
—
then
—
—
'
In
the
thrill
of
that
then
lay
,
of
course
,
the
whole
attraction
of
the
position
.
So
that
next
morning
Hugh
Flaxman
saw
the
comedy
was
to
be
scrupulously
kept
up
.
It
required
a
tolerably
strong
masculine
certainty
at
the
bottom
of
him
to
enable
him
to
resign
himself
once
more
to
his
part
.
But
he
achieved
it
,
and
being
himself
a
modern
of
the
moderns
,
a
lover
of
half-shades
and
refinements
of
all
sorts
,
he
began
very
soon
to
enjoy
it
,
and
to
play
it
with
an
increasing
cleverness
and
perfection
.
How
Rose
got
through
Agnes
's
cross-questioning
on
the
matter
history
sayeth
not
.
Of
one
thing
,
however
,
a
conscientious
historian
may
be
sure
,
namely
,
that
Agnes
succeeded
in
knowing
as
much
as
she
wanted
to
know
.
Mrs.
Leyburn
was
a
little
puzzled
by
the
erratic
lines
of
Mr.
Flaxman
's
journeys
.
It
was
,
as
she
said
,
curious
that
a
man
should
start
on
a
tour
through
the
Lakes
from
Long
Whindale
.
But
she
took
everything
naïvely
as
it
came
,
and
as
she
was
told
.
Nothing
with
her
ever
passed
through
any
changing
crucible
of
thought
.
It
required
no
planning
to
elude
her
.
Her
mind
was
like
a
stretch
of
wet
sand
,
on
which
all
impressions
are
equally
easy
to
make
and
equally
fugitive
.
He
liked
them
all
,
she
supposed
,
in
spite
of
the
comparative
scantiness
of
his
later
visits
to
Lerwick
Gardens
,
or
he
would
not
have
come
out
of
his
way
to
see
them
.
But
as
nobody
suggested
anything
else
to
her
,
her
mind
worked
no
further
,
and
she
was
as
easily
beguiled
after
his
appearance
as
before
it
by
the
intricacies
of
some
new
knitting
.
Things
of
course
might
have
been
different
if
Mrs.
Thornburgh
had
interfered
again
;
but
,
as
we
know
,
poor
Catherine
's
sorrows
had
raised
a
whole
odd
host
of
misgivings
in
the
mind
of
the
vicar
's
wife
.
She
prowled
nervously
