unjustlydoubtful
,
carries
him
like
a
bird
.
As
to
whether
his
ladylove
may
relish
this
early
preference
of
"
bold
Reynolds
"
to
herself
,
any
more
than
she
relished
his
fatigue
and
headache
last
night
,
he
troubles
himself
but
little
.
He
has
no
intention
whatever
of
being
a
hen-pecked
husband
.
When
he
proposed
to
her
,
he
told
her
what
he
could
give
her
,
and
what
he
could
not
—
what
she
might
expect
,
and
what
she
might
not
:
nor
has
this
day
's
desertion
been
any
departure
from
his
half
of
the
bargain
.
Somewhere
about
five
o'clock
he
is
back
again
at
Blessington
,
splashed
from
head
to
heel
;
his
tops
,
in
which
this
morning
you
might
have
seen
your
face
,
all
stained
and
discoloured
;
with
a
dab
of
mud
on
each
cheek
,
and
a
third
on
the
bridge
of
his
nose
.
He
runs
upstairs
lightly
,
whistling
a
tune
,
and
has
just
reached
the
first
landing
,
when
,
"
Click-clack
,
"
he
hears
a
woman
's
high-heeled
shoes
descending
.
It
is
Esther
,
who
is
walking
listlessly
down
,
with
her
eyes
fixed
on
a
great
picture
let
into
the
wall
—
a
large
,
white
woman
,
with
her
clothes
tumbling
off
,
hurling
her
substantial
person
upon
a
spear
;
a
young
man
,
with
arms
like
a
blacksmith
's
,
lying
on
the
ground
,
making
a
profuse
display
of
his
charms
,
and
,
though
with
no
very
perceptible
wound
,
evidently
in
articulo
mortis
;
a
fat
Cupid
blubbering
hard
by
—
the
whole
entitled
"
Pyramus
and
Thisbe
.
"
St.
John
looks
upward
,
to
see
who
the
author
of
the
"
click-clacking
"
may
be
.
"
Who
the
devil
is
this
pretty
girl
?
"
is
his
first
thought
.
His
second
—
a
thought
that
makes
him
stagger
back
with
the
colour
hurrying
from
his
healthy
cheek
—
a
thought
full
of
anger
,
astonishment
,
desire
,
and
pain
—
a
thought
that
involuntarily
he
speaks
aloud
,
is
"
Esther
.
"
At
almost
the
same
moment
she
has
caught
sight
of
him
.
In
her
case
,
there
is
no
surprise
;
but
the
pain
is
as
great
,
if
not
greater
.
"
Yes
,
it
is
I
,
"
she
answers
,
almost
inaudibly
,
trembling
all
over
.
His
first
impulse
seems
to
be
to
rush
away
from
her
,
to
pass
quickly
upstairs
;
his
second
takes
him
to
her
side
.
"
In
Heaven
's
name
,
what
brings
you
here
?
"
he
asks
,
in
a
voice
almost
as
low
as
her
own
,
from
intense
repressed
emotion
.
No
answer
.
His
voice
has
carried
her
back
,
across
the
gulf
of
Jack
's
death
,
of
her
own
servitude
and
failing
health
,
to
that
night
when
,
in
the
starry
Felton
fields
,
she
had
stood
by
his
side
,
his
beloved
,
promised
wife
.
She
is
silent
—
struggling
with
a
strong
,
vile
,
degrading
temptation
to
fling
down
her
tired
head
upon
the
shoulder
of
Miss
Blessington
's
affianced
husband
,
and
weep
out
loud
.
"
Are
you
on
a
visit
here
?
"
he
asks
again
,
with
stern
brevity
.
"
Yes
,
"
she
answers
,
bitterly
,
strengthened
by
his
tone
,
in
which
there
is
small
kindness
,
and
much
wrath
;
"
I
am
paid
fifty
pounds
a
year
to
visit
here
.
"
"
What
do
you
mean
?
"
"
I
am
Mr.
and
Mrs.
Blessington
's
'
companion
.
'
"
"
Good
God
!
You
are
here
always
,
then
?
"
"
Always
.
"
A
pause
!
Against
his
will
his
eyes
dwell
upon
her
,
hungry
and
fierce
,
astonied
at
the
alteration
wrought
in
her
whom
he
had
once
thought
fairest
among
women
.
Faded
,
wasted
,
forlorn
,
to
his
cost
he
finds
that
he
still
thinks
her
so
.
"
Is
this
bondage
to
last
all
your
life
,
then
?
"
he
inquires
more
collectedly
,
after
a
few
seconds
.
"
Until
they
die
,
or
until
my
voice
fails
.
"
"
And
what
then
?
"
"
I
must
look
out
for
some
other
old
people
,
to
whom
I
can
be
ears
,
and
voice
,
and
feet
.
"
"
Good
God
!
And
what
can
be
your
motive
?
"
"
One
must
live
.
"
"
I
had
thought
the
world
wide
enough
for
two
people
to
walk
apart
,
"
he
says
,
with
almost
a
groan
.
"
I
have
entreated
God
that
I
might
never
look
on
your
face
again
,
and
this
is
how
my
prayer
is
answered
.
"
Another
pause
.
"
Tick-tack-tick-tack-tick-tack
,
"
goes
a
clock
in
the
gallery
overhead
.
"
You
look
extremely
ill
!
"
"
Do
I
?
"
"
You
are
wonderfully
altered
!
"
"
Yes
,
I
know
it
!
"
"
What
is
it
ails
you
?
"
"
Nothing
.
"
"
What
does
this
mean
?
"
—
touching
her
black
dress
with
a
jealous
pang
of
fear
that
his
innocent
rival
,
the
"
lout
who
gave
her
the
sixpenny
Prayer
Book
,
and
inscribed
his
name
with
a
crooked
pin
on
the
fly-leaf
,
"
is
numbered
with
the
dead
;
and
that
the
hollow
cheeks
,
dejected
droop
of
the
head
,
and
crape-covered
garments
are
for
him
.
The
tears
crowd
into
her
eyes
;
they
know
the
way
there
so
well
now
.
She
turns
away
,
and
leans
against
the
banisters
to
hide
them
.
A
light
breaks
in
upon
him
.
He
remembers
that
she
had
a
brother
,
her
girlish
rhapsodies
about
whom
used
to
make
him
rather
impatient
.
"
I
see
,
"
he
says
,
in
a
softer
tone
;
"
forgive
me
for
asking
.
"
Encouraged
by
his
voice
,
she
lifts
her
face
towards
him
with
a
tearful
smile
.
"
You
may
be
satisfied
,
I
think
,
"
she
says
,
simply
.
"
You
have
had
your
revenge
;
I
have
been
punished
almost
enough
.
"
Revenge
is
sweet
,
they
say
;
but
at
this
moment
I
do
not
think
that
St.
John
finds
it
so
.
"
You
did
not
know
that
I
was
here
?
"
she
asks
,
presently
.
"
Know
it
!
"
he
repeats
,
passionately
.
"
Not
I
.
Do
you
suppose
I
would
have
come
within
a
hundred
miles
of
this
house
if
I
had
known
it
?
"
"
I
will
try
to
keep
out
of
your
way
,
"
she
answers
,
meekly
.
"
For
God
's
sake
,
do
!
It
is
the
most
merciful
thing
that
you
can
do
for
both
of
us
.
"
"
I
would
leave
this
place
to-day
,
if
I
could
,
"
she
answers
,
humbly
raising
her
wistful
,
deprecating
eyes
to
his
;
"
but
I
cannot
.
My
daily
bread
is
here
—
yours
is
not
.
Why
cannot
you
go
?
"
He
hesitates
.
"
I
ought
,
I
suppose
,
"
he
answers
,
doubtfully
.
"
I
will
,
if
you
wish
it
.
"
"
It
is
as
you
wish
,
"
she
replies
.
Footmen
are
passing
to
and
fro
,
through
the
hall
,
busy
with
preparations
for
dinner
;
any
moment
Mr.
Gerard
's
blue-and-white
angel
may
come
sweeping
downstairs
and
surprise
them
.
"
I
have
not
congratulated
you
yet
,
Mr.
Gerard
,
"
Esther
says
,
timidly
.
"
Congratulated
me
!
—
what
upon
?
"
he
asks
,
absently
,
staring
vacantly
at
her
.
"
Upon
your
engagement
to
Miss
Blessington
.
"
A
shade
crosses
his
face
.
"
Oh
yes
,
to
be
sure
!
I
had
forgotten
.
Thanks
!
you
are
very
good
,
I
'm
sure
.
"
"
I
hope
you
will
be
very
happy
—
quite
happy
.
"
"
Thanks
.
Wish
that
I
may
be
Prime
Minister
,
or
Commander-in-Chief
,
or
something
equally
probable
,
while
you
are
about
it
,
"
he
says
,
sardonically
.
"
I
wish
you
to
be
happy
,
"
she
repeats
,
gently
,
"
and
I
hope
that
is
not
improbable
.
"
"
Such
a
wish
in
your
mouth
is
something
like
a
butcher
with
his
knife
at
its
throat
wishing
a
sheep
a
long
life
!
"
A
guilty
sense
of
hypocrisy
in
wishing
him
happy
whom
,
less
than
forty-eight
hours
ago
,
she
had
been
congratulating
herself
on
his
certain
misery
,
keeps
her
dumb
.
"
Why
could
not
you
have
sent
me
word
that
you
were
here
,
and
I
would
have
kept
away
?
"
he
asks
,
flashing
angrily
upon
her
.
"
I
asked
Miss
Blessington
to
tell
you
,
but
she
forgot
.
"
He
turns
away
with
a
muttered
exclamation
,
not
benedictory
towards
his
betrothed
,
between
his
teeth
.
"
I
will
try
to
be
as
little
annoyance
to
you
as
I
can
,
"
says
the
poor
child
,
in
bitter
mortification
.
"
You
will
be
out
hunting
most
of
the
day
,
I
daresay
,
and
,
except
when
I
am
waiting
upon
either
Mr.
and
Mrs.
Blessington
,
I
am
not
often
downstairs
.
"
He
takes
no
notice
of
her
submissive
speech
,
but
stands
,
with
his
eyes
moodily
downcast
,
upon
the
white
stone
of
the
cold
carpetless
stairs
.
"
Believe
me
,
I
would
go
away
,
if
I
could
,
"
she
says
,
piteously
.
"
I
did
not
wish
to
be
in
your
way
;
but
I
had
nowhere
to
go
to
.
"
A
shade
of
pity
softens
his
stern
face
.
"
Are
they
kind
to
you
?
"
he
asks
abruptly
.
"
Yes
—
oh
yes
—
quite
kind
.
"
"
And
what
,
in
God
's
name
,
"
he
says
,
slowly
,
as
if
the
question
were
forced
from
him
against
his
will
,
by
the
slender
fragility
of
her
figure
,
by
the
pallid
delicacy
of
her
face
—
"
And
what
,
in
God
's
name
,
can
have
induced
your
friends
to
allow
you
to
accept
such
a
situation
,
for
which
you
are
about
as
well
fitted
as
I
for
the
archbishopric
of
Canterbury
?
"
"
I
have
not
many
friends
,
and
I
did
not
ask
the
advice
of
the
few
I
have
.
"
"
They
ought
to
have
given
it
unasked
,
"
he
says
,
gruffly
.
"
So
they
did
,
but
I
did
not
take
it
.
"
"
Well
,
it
is
no
business
of
mine
,
"
he
says
,
harshly
,
ashamed
and
angry
at
himself
for
his
temporary
lapse
into
friendliness
.
"
God
knows
I
have
had
as
good
reason
to
hate
you
,
and
wish
you
ill
,
as
ever
man
had
!
I
have
hated
you
,
"
he
says
,
with
fierce
heartiness
,
"
during
the
last
three
months
,
as
I
should
not
have
thought
it
possible
to
hate
anything
so
weak
and
tender
.
I
hope
I
hate
you
still
!
"
Remembering
how
much
deeplier
she
had
sinned
against
that
other
,
and
with
how
godlike
a
fulness
and
freedom
he
had
pardoned
her
,
she
feels
her
heart
rise
up
against
him
.
"
The
worse
case
I
see
you
in
,
the
more
I
ought
to
rejoice
—
the
more
I
should
have
rejoiced
yesterday
,
"
he
continues
,
with
rapid
passion
;
"
and
yet
—
and
yet
—
"
He
passes
his
hand
across
his
forehead
,
pushing
the
hair
away
;
and
not
even
the
dab
of
mud
on
his
nose
can
hinder
the
expression
of
his
countenance
from
having
something
of
a
tragical
pathos
in
it
.
"
And
yet
what
?
"
she
asks
,
tremulously
,
moving
a
step
nearer
to
him
.
"
And
yet
,
for
the
life
of
me
,
while
I
am
with
you
,
I
cannot
.
When
I
am
away
from
you
,
I
can
remember
what
you
are
;
when
I
am
with
you
,
I
see
only
what
you
seem
.
Esther
!
Esther
!
why
,
in
God
's
name
,
do
n't
the
two
tally
better
?
"
"
Whether
they
tally
or
not
can
be
of
but
little
concern
to
you
now
,
Mr.
Gerard
,
"
she
answers
,
with
some
exasperation
.
His
brown
cheek
flushes
into
shamed
angry-red
.
"
You
are
right
,
"
he
says
,
stiffly
.
"
It
is
no
concern
of
mine
;
I
am
sorry
I
needed
reminding
.
"
"
Why
must
we
waste
time
digging
that
poor
old
past
out
of
its
grave
?
"
she
says
,
with
persuasive
gentleness
,
as
her
hand
lays
itself
lightly
,
as
if
half
afraid
of
being
shaken
off
,
upon
his
scarlet
sleeve
.
"
Why
cannot
we
let
bygones
,
that
"
(
with
a
sigh
)
"
are
so
completely
bygones
,
be
bygones
?
I
did
you
an
injury
once
—
not
an
irreparable
one
,
you
will
allow
,
since
it
is
already
repaired
"
(
smiling
half-scornful
,
half-melancholy
)
;
"
and
my
whole
life
since
has
been
a
punishment
—
O
God
!
what
a
punishment
!
"
(
putting
her
hand
for
a
second
over
her
eyes
)
.
"
I
am
tired
of
being
punished
now
.
We
shall
see
very
little
of
one
another
heneforth
,
but
that
little
might
as
well
be
in
civility
as
in
inoivility
—
might
n't
it
?
"
"
Civility
!
"
—
he
repeats
,
without
much
of
that
quality
in
his
tone
—
"
civility
between
you
and
me
!
And
what
would
that
end
in
,
pray
?
It
would
be
oversweet
at
first
,
and
bitterer
than
wormwood
afterwards
,
as
our
former
civility
was
.
No
—
no
!
we
will
have
no
sophisms
,
no
absurd
Platonisms
here
!
God
forbid
my
thrusting
myself
into
temptation
again
!
We
will
say
'
good
morning
'
and
'
good
evening
'
to
one
another
,
as
people
would
remark
it
if
we
did
not
.
But
for
the
rest
,
let
us
hold
our
tongues
and
keep
apart
;
and
as
soon
as
I
can
do
it
,
without
exciting
great
question
,
you
may
rely
upon
my
going
;
and
then
we
shall
have
done
with
one
another
for
good
,
I
pray
God
!
"
She
bends
her
head
submissively
.
"
You
are
right
,
I
think
.
"
"
Click-clack
—
click-clack
,
"
come
other
high-heeled
shoes
;
"
swish
!
swish
!
"
a
long
dress
trails
along
.
From
the
heaven
of
the
upper
regions
the
blue-and-white
angel
is
in
the
act
of
descent
.
Without
another
word
,
the
two
part
—
the
woman
going
quickly
down
,
the
man
as
quickly
up
.
"
Good
morning
,
Conny
!
Rather
late
in
the
day
to
say
'
good
morning
,
'
is
n't
it
?
"
This
is
his
greeting
,
accompanied
with
a
rather
constrained
laugh
,
to
his
future
proprietor
.
"
So
you
and
Miss
Craven
have
been
renewing
your
acquaintance
upon
the
landing
?
"
replies
the
divinity
,
smiling
a
little
inquisitively
.
"
I
was
looking
down
at
you
from
the
gallery
;
you
looked
so
picturesque
!
"
"
If
being
cased
from
top
to
toe
in
black
mud
is
pictresque
,
I
am
eminently
so
,
"
answers
he
,
looking
down
at
his
legs
to
hide
a
transient
expression
of
confusion
.
"
Well
,
good-bye
for
the
present
;
I
suppose
I
must
be
going
to
adorn
for
this
unearthly
meal
.
"
CHAPTER
XXXIV
.
N
o
one
ever
accused
the
dinners
en
famille
at
Felton
of
being
too
lively
;
but
,
that
evening
,
Gerard
decides
that
they
yield
the
palm
,
in
point
of
perfect
:
stagnation
,
to
Blessington
.
There
is
,
indeed
,
none
of
that
lynx-eyed
watching
of
the
servants
,
none
of
that
pouncing
upon
their
minutest
derelictions
,
which
makes
dining
in
Sir
Thomas
's
company
so
thoroughly
uncomfortable
a
process
:
no
one
calls
the
fat
red-faced
butler
and
the
two
blue-and-yellow
footmen
"
hounds
,
louts
,
fools
.
"
At
Blessington
,
indeed
the
servants
have
things
pretty
much
their
own
way
;
and
,
accustomed
to
their
master
's
total
and
mistress
's
partial
deafness
,
have
got
into
a
habit
of
conversing
with
one
another
in
a
tone
of
voice
considerably
above
that
usually
considered
seemly
in
civilised
ménages
.
With
one
member
of
the
company
(
Miss
Craven
)
St.
John
has
entered
into
a
pact
to
exchange
no
remarks
,
good
or
bad
;
a
second
member
(
Mr.
Blessington
)
contributes
nothing
to
the
conversation
but
a
series
of
inarticulate
though
loud
mumblings
over
his
food
—
with
the
exception
of
a
question
,
addressed
to
the
butler
,
as
to
what
the
viands
upon
the
table
under
his
sightless
eyes
consist
of
.
"
'
Aricot
—
Volly
Vong
—
Line
of
Mutton
—
Biled
Turkey
,
"
enumerates
that
functionary
,
glibly
,
at
the
top
of
his
voice
.
From
a
third
member
(
Mrs.
Blessington
)
St.
John
has
already
heard
all
that
is
to
be
said
on
the
subject
of
draughts
and
sand-bags
;
and
with
the
fourth
member
,
conversation
always
drives
as
heavily
as
a
loaded
waggon
dragged
up
a
perpendicular
hill
.
The
evening
is
but
a
prolongation
of
the
dinner
,
with
the
additional
disadvantage
of
there
being
no
eating
and
drinking
to
employ
the
otherwise
unoccupied
jaws
.
"
England
expects
every
man
to
do
his
duty
!
"
She
expects
every
man
who
has
the
misfortune
to
be
in
the
position
of
an
affianced
to
sit
,
hours
long
,
idle
beside
his
betrothed
—
however
ardently
his
soul
may
be
sighing
for
a
sheet
of
the
Times
or
a
whiff
of
Latakia
:
to
hold
converse
with
no
other
man
,
woman
,
or
child
,
if
she
be
in
the
room
.
Since
,
at
the
entrance
of
the
gentlemen
,
Constance
looked
up
expectant
,
and
since
he
has
a
vague
idea
that
it
is
part
of
his
share
of
their
bargain
to
pay
her
all
outward
observance
and
attention
,
St.
John
seats
himself
on
the
sofa
beside
her
.
She
sits
rather
forward
,
upright
as
a
dart
;
he
leans
back
,
with
his
arms
resting
on
the
sofa
behind
her
.
It
is
not
a
caress
;
but
,
from
a
little
distance
,
it
has
the
air
of
one
.
The
old
gentleman
,
rendered
surprisingly
wakeful
by
the
unwonted
incident
of
the
addition
of
a
stranger
to
his
little
circle
,
insists
upon
hearing
a
pungent
article
on
Gladstone
and
the
Irish
Church
,
over
which
he
has
fallen
asleep
in
the
morning
,
re-read
to
him
by
his
little
white
slave
.
"
I
am
afraid
I
can
hardly
see
,
Mr.
Blessington
;
there
is
so
little
light
!
"
she
has
remonstrated
,
mildly
.
"
Light
!
—
pooh
!
"
repeats
the
old
gentleman
,
gaily
.
"
What
do
young
eyes
like
yours
want
with
light
?
They
ought
to
be
able
to
see
in
the
dark
,
like
cats
.
You
'll
be
borrowing
Mrs.
Blessington
's
spectacles
next
—
eh
,
Mrs.
Blessington
?
"
"
Mrs.
Blessington
is
asleep
,
Mr.
Blessington
.
"
"
Oh
!
Go
on
,
then
,
my
dear
—
go
on
.
Let
us
hear
what
they
have
got
to
say
for
these
rascally
placehunters
,
who
are
trying
to
remove
the
landmarks
of
the
Constitution
for
the
sake
of
getting
into
office
.
"
Her
long
damp
evening
rambles
—
rambles
on
which
a
mother
would
have
put
so
decided
a
veto
—
have
brought
back
Miss
Craven
's
cold
.
She
has
been
hoarse
all
day
;
and
it
is
a
well-known
fact
that
hoarseness
always
becomes
worse
towards
night
:
a
tiresome
little
tickling
cough
interrupts
her
every
moment
.
Add
to
which
,
her
attention
is
completely
distracted
from
the
subject
in
hand
by
the
involuntary
and
vain
effort
to
catch
what
Mr.
Gerard
and
his
love
are
saying
to
one
another
.
She
would
hardly
have
been
repaid
for
her
trouble
had
she
succeeded
.
"
Had
you
a
good
run
to-day
?
"
"
Yes
,
rather
a
quick
thing
.
"
"
Which
horse
did
you
ride
?
"
"
The
grey
—
one
you
have
not
seen
.
I
bought
her
in
Ireland
of
Brownrigg
;
he
required
more
of
a
weight-
carrier
.
"
"
Does
she
seem
likely
to
prove
satisfactory
?
"
"
Very
:
she
has
a
good
turn
of
speed
,
jumps
capitally
,
and
is
very
temperate
.
"
"
Was
it
a
large
field
?
"
"
Middling
.
"
"
Any
one
you
knew
?
"
"
Two
or
three
"
(
with
a
yawn
)
.
"
You
are
going
out
to-morrow
again
,
of
course
?
"
with
a
slight
attempt
at
a
pout
,
which
is
not
even
perceived
by
the
person
for
whose
benefit
it
is
intended
.
"
No
,
I
think
not
;
it
is
five-and-twenty
miles
,
and
the
trains
do
not
fit
:
one
gets
lazy
in
one
's
old
age
.
I
suppose
I
shall
agree
soon
with
Brakespeare
,
of
the
—
th
,
who
sent
seven
horses
down
to
Melton
last
year
;
and
at
the
end
of
the
season
confessed
that
he
hated
hunting
,
and
that
he
thought
it
a
very
dangerous
amusement
.
"
"
Really
?
"
answers
Constance
,
who
always
takes
everything
au
sérieux
,
opening
her
great
eyes
.
"
No
,
not
really
—
most
assuredly
!
"
he
answers
,
laughing
lazily
.
"
On
the
contrary
,
I
am
nearer
coinciding
with
the
opinion
of
the
Jewish
gentleman
,
who
said
it
would
be
a
very
pleasant
world
if
there
were
no
shummers
and
no
shabbaths
.
"
It
is
hardly
worth
Miss
Craven
's
while
,
you
will
perceive
,
to
lose
her
place
twice
,
and
get
rated
by
her
old
employer
,
for
the
sake
of
hearing
brilliant
questions
and
answers
of
the
above
description
.
Though
her
jealous
eyes
are
fixed
upon
the
Saturday
's
columns
,
they
see
,
none
the
less
clearly
,
those
two
figures
reclined
upon
the
distant
sofa
.
Once
she
sees
St.
John
raise
himself
,
and
,
stooping
forward
over
his
companion
,
speak
with
more
animation
than
he
has
yet
used
.
If
she
break
the
drum
of
her
ear
in
the
attempt
,
she
must
catch
the
drift
of
that
remark-some
delicious
tender
nothing
,
no
doubt
.
She
succeeds
:
"
By-the-bye
,
Conny
,
how
was
the
lump
on
your
pony
's
leg
when
you
left
home
?
"
As
another
and
another
article
follow
the
first
,
Esther
's
cough
becomes
increasingly
troublesome
:
her
throat
aches
with
the
effort
of
reading
:
her
voice
at
each
paragraph
waxes
huskier
and
huskier
.
For
several
minutes
past
Gerard
's
answers
to
Miss
Blessington
's
questions
have
been
growing
ever
more
wildly
random
;
suddenly
he
leaves
the
sofa
,
and
comes
over
to
Mr.
Blessington
's
armchair
.
"
Will
you
let
me
read
to
you
a
bit
?
"
he
asks
,
in
that
loud
unmodulated
roar
that
people
unused
to
the
deaf
think
the
only
method
of
making
them
hear
.
"
Eh
!
what
does
he
say
?
"
inquires
the
old
gentleman
,
sharply
,
lifting
his
head
,
and
peering
blindly
up
in
the
direction
whence
the
voice
came
.
"
I
asked
whether
you
would
let
me
read
to
you
,
for
a
change
,
instead
of
Miss
Craven
?
"
"
No
—
thanks
,
no
,
"
replies
the
old
man
,
ungraciously
.
"
Much
obliged
to
you
,
but
I
cannot
hear
a
word
you
say
;
you
run
all
your
words
into
one
another
.
"
"
Do
I
?
I
daresay
,
"
rejoins
Gerard
,
good-humouredly
;
"
but
have
you
ever
heard
me
read
?
I
think
not
.
"
"
Begging
your
pardon
,
I
have
,
though
;
I
heard
you
read
prayers
here
one
Sunday
evening
.
"
"
And
I
am
afraid
my
mode
of
conducting
divine
worship
has
not
left
a
pleasant
impression
,
"
says
the
young
man
,
laughing
.
"
Well
,
but
I
promise
to
read
as
slow
as
ever
you
choose
,
and
to
count
four
at
every
full-stop
.
"
"
No
—
no
,
"
cries
the
old
man
,
obstinately
.
"
Get
away
with
you
,
my
dear
boy
!
you
are
interrupting
us
.
No
offence
,
but
we
are
very
happy
without
you
—
are
n't
we
,
Miss
Esther
?
You
attend
to
your
own
business
;
we
do
n't
offer
to
help
you
in
that
—
do
we
—
eh
,
my
dear
?
"
Baffled
and
vexed
,
St.
John
stands
silent
;
and
as
he
so
stands
,
the
young
girl
lifts
her
great
meek
eyes
,
dumbly
grateful
,
to
his
.
He
has
forbidden
her
to
speak
to
him
,
but
he
cannot
lay
an
embargo
upon
the
gentle
messages
sent
from
those
sorrowful
shining
orbs
.
His
own
meet
them
for
an
instant
;
then
he
turns
away
with
a
half-shudder
.
"
What
a
churchyard
cough
that
girl
has
!
"
says
Miss
Blessington
,
fanning
herself
gently
,
as
he
reseats
himself
beside
her
;
"
it
really
quite
fidgets
one
.
Of
course
it
is
very
unjust
of
one
,
but
I
always
feel
so
angry
with
a
person
who
goes
'
cough
,
cough
,
cough
'
every
minute
.
"
"
I
feel
angrier
with
the
person
who
is
the
cause
of
it
,
"
answers
Gerard
,
thoroughly
chafed
:
"
it
is
positive
barbarity
.
You
see
what
success
I
met
with
when
I
tried
to
relieve
guard
.
Suppose
you
offer
:
you
can
always
make
him
hear
!
"
"
I
should
be
delighted
,
"
answers
Conny
,
blandly
;
"
only
,
unfortunately
,
this
damp
weather
makes
my
throat
so
relaxed
"
(
touching
the
firm
round
pillar
with
two
white
slender
fingers
)
,
"
that
I
really
should
be
afraid
.
"
"
Just
try
—
there
's
a
good
girl
,
"
urges
he
,
coaxingly
;
"
you
can
stop
in
a
minute
if
you
find
that
it
hurts
you
.
"
A
mulish
expression
comes
into
her
face
;
small
good
would
persuasion
,
cajolery
,
threats
,
or
promises
do
now
!
"
I
am
very
sorry
I
cannot
oblige
you
;
but
as
I
am
to
dine
out
on
Thursday
,
and
one
is
always
expected
to
sing
,
I
really
must
nurse
my
voice
.
"
CHAPTER
XXXV
.
"
When
the
days
begin
to
lengthen
,
Then
the
cold
begins
to
strengthen
.
"
THIS
ancient
distich
proves
true
in
the
year
I
am
speaking
of
.
Not
later
than
Christmas
does
the
moist
mild
weather
last
.
With
January
the
frost
comes
hurrying
back
;
hanging
great
icicles
on
the
house-eaves
,
throwing
men
out
of
work
,
and
pressing
with
its
iron
finger
the
thin
faint
life
out
of
half-a-dozen
old
almsmen
and
almswomen
.
The
foxes
have
a
little
breathing-time
—
a
little
space
in
which
to
steal
and
eat
three
or
four
more
fat
capons
and
stubble-fed
geese
—
before
that
evil
day
when
their
dappled
foes
shall
tear
their
poor
little
red
bodies
limb
from
limb
.
Hunting
is
stopped
,
and
men
are
hurrying
up
from
the
shires
to
London
.
St.
James
's
Street
and
its
hundred
clubs
are
crowded
.
At
Blessington
everybody
is
pirouetting
on
the
ice
.
St.
John
,
passionately
fond
of
all
out-of-door
sports
,
spends
the
whole
day
on
the
mere
.
One
afternoon
a
large
party
comes
over
from
Lord
Linley
's
place
,
five
miles
away
.
Not
in
all
Lord
Linley
's
grounds
is
there
such
a
stretch
of
smooth
ice
as
the
Blessington
pool
affords
;
and
so
they
are
all
come
to
show
their
prowess
on
its
hard
flat
face
.
Esther
keeps
well
out
of
their
way
.
From
her
post
of
obcervation
—
the
deep
window-seat
in
the
China
gallery
—
she
has
watched
their
arrival
,
heard
their
gay
voices
in
the
hall
,
and
then
,
unnoticed
,
unmissed
,
she
has
stolen
out
upon
one
of
her
long
,
dawdling
,
cold-giving
strolls
in
the
park
:
over
the
frost-crisped
grass
,
under
the
branchy
trees
,
whose
staglike
crowns
cut
the
pale
sky
—
up
little
knolls
and
down
into
dips
where
,
in
summer
time
,
the
fern
stands
neck
high
.
At
last
she
comes
in
sight
of
the
mere
;
and
,
impelled
by
curiosity
,
trusting
in
her
own
insignificance
to
escape
notice
,
sits
down
on
a
bank
that
slopes
gently
down
towards
the
sheet
of
water
,
and
looks
upon
the
unwonted
brilliance
of
the
scene
.
Girls
in
velvet
short
costumes
;
bright
petticoats
,
furs
,
hats
with
humming
birds
on
them
,
curls
,
fair
chignons
,
glancing
in
the
cheerful
winter
sun
.
Fashion
in
all
its
folly
and
extravagance
,
but
picturesque
withal
;
it
is
as
if
a
company
of
Dresden
shepherdesses
had
stepped
off
the
mantelshelf
,
and
come
tripping
,
dainty-footed
,
over
the
frozen
water
.
Her
eyes
follow
the
shepherdess
figures
with
eager
interest
—
so
seldom
in
her
simple
country-bred
life
has
she
been
brought
into
contact
with
any
of
Fashion
's
bright
daughters
.
The
men
have
less
attraction
for
her
.
Under
no
most
prosperous
conjunction
of
circumstances
could
she
ever
have
been
a
man
;
but
under
happier
auspices
she
might
have
been
one
of
these
fluttering
butterflies
—
a
prettier
butterfly
than
any
there
,
her
heart
tells
her
.
Shylock
's
words
recur
to
her
:
"
Am
not
I
'
fed
with
the
same
food
,
hurt
with
the
same
weapons
,
subject
to
the
same
diseases
,
healed
by
the
same
means
,
warmed
and
cooled
by
the
same
winter
and
summer
?
'
Why
,
then
,
are
they
frisking
about
in
purple
and
fine
linen
upon
the
ice
,
with
half-a-dozen
young
patricians
(
in
trousers
of
surprising
tightness
and
coats
of
unequalled
brevity
)
in
their
train
,
while
I
am
perched
here
upon
the
all-alone
stone
,
among
these
stiff
cold
sedges
,
with
only
the
Canada
geese
,
with
their
long
necks
craned
out
,
screeching
above
my
head
?
"
Meanwhile
,
Miss
Craven
is
the
subject
of
more
remark
than
she
is
at
all
aware
of
.
"
I
say
,
Gerard
,
"
says
Lord
Linley
's
heir
—
a
goodnatured
ugly
little
prodigal
,
who
is
one
of
the
shining
lights
of
Her
Majesty
's
Household
,
and
goes
among
men
by
the
sobriquet
of
"
Gaolbird
,
"
for
which
he
has
to
thank
the
unexampled
brevity
of
his
locks
—
"
I
say
,
Gerard
,
you
ought
to
know
all
the
remarkable
objects
about
here
:
tell
us
,
who
is
the
mourner
in
the
distance
?
"
St.
John
's
eyes
follow
the
direction
indicated
by
his
friend
,
and
a
shade
of
annoyance
crosses
his
face
.
"
Her
name
is
Miss
Craven
,
I
believe
,
"
he
answers
,
shortly
.
"
Uncommon
good-looking
girl
,
whoever
she
is
!
"
says
a
second
man
,
who
has
just
stopped
to
adjust
his
skates
;
"
I
have
been
perilling
my
life
among
those
d
—
d
rushes
by
the
edge
,
to
get
a
good
look
at
her
!
"
"
Deuced
good
legs
!
"
subjoins
a
third
,
remarkable
for
his
laconism
;
taking
his
pipe
out
of
his
mouth
to
make
room
for
his
criticism
,
and
fixing
upon
that
part
of
a
woman
's
charms
which
is
always
the
first
to
enchain
the
masculine
attention
.
"
She
is
vewy
like
a
girl
I
used
to
know
at
the
Cape
,
"
says
a
"
Heavy
,
"
who
has
been
vanquished
in
single
combat
by
the
letter
R
.
"
The
Fly
we
used
to
call
her
,
because
when
she
settled
on
a
f'la
,
it
was
mowally
impossible
to
dwive
her
off
.
"
St.
John
,
who
has
been
listening
with
ill-concealed
anger
and
disgust
to
these
comments
—
free
as
if
they
had
been
upon
the
points
of
a
horse
—
on
the
charms
of
the
woman
for
whom
he
has
been
trying
to
persuade
himself
that
he
feels
inveterate
aversion
,
turns
to
move
away
;
but
Linley
's
voice
recalls
him
.
"
I
say
,
Gerard
!
—
Gerard
!
"
"
Well
?
"
"
Do
you
know
her
?
"
"
Slightly
.
"
"
Introduce
me
,
then
—
there
's
a
good
fellow
!
"
"
And
me
!
"
"
And
me
!
"
"
My
acquaintance
with
Miss
Craven
is
not
such
as
to
justify
my
introducing
any
one
to
her
,
"
answers
Gerard
,
stiffly
,
and
so
walks
resolutely
off
.
"
Sly
dog
!
"
cries
Linley
,
laughing
;
"
means
to
keep
her
all
to
himself
—
a
nice
quiet
little
game
of
his
own
.
"
"
Means
to
drive
a
pair
then
—
eh
?
"
asks
the
laconic
youth
.
"
Vewy
seldom
pays
,
"
says
the
"
Heavy
,
"
sagely
;
"
one
or
other
invawiably
jibs
.
"
But
Mr.
Linley
,
being
more
in
earnest
than
he
usually
is
about
most
things
,
is
not
so
easily
balked
.
After
many
fruitless
inquiries
among
the
company
,
he
at
length
appeals
to
Miss
Blessington
.
"
Do
you
know
,
Miss
Blessington
,
"
he
says
,
peering
up
at
her
with
his
quick
terrier-face
(
for
her
stately
height
exceeds
his
)
,
"
I
have
actually
been
putting
the
same
question
to
twenty
people
running
,
and
never
yet
succeeded
in
getting
an
answer
?
You
are
my
last
hope
:
who
is
that
lady
in
black
?
"
"
The
lady
in
black
!
"
repeats
Constance
,
amiably
—
following
,
as
her
lover
had
done
,
the
direction
of
his
gaze
.
"
Oh
!
"
(
with
a
little
,
slighting
laugh
)
,
"
nobody
very
particular
;
only
poor
Miss
Craven
,
my
aunt
's
companion
!
"
"
Poor
girl
!
"
he
says
—
his
eyes
still
riveted
upon
the
pensive
oval
face
,
and
his
interest
in
her
not
the
least
lessened
by
the
information
as
to
her
social
status
,
that
Constance
had
thought
so
damning
.
He
does
not
want
to
marry
her
;
and
for
any
other
purpose
a
pretty
woman
is
a
pretty
woman
,
be
she
duchess
or
fishwife
.
"
It
must
be
very
slow
for
her
,
must
n't
it
?
I
always
hate
looking
on
—
do
n't
you
?
I
always
like
to
have
a
hand
in
everything
,
whatever
it
may
be
;
it
would
really
be
a
charity
to
go
and
speak
to
her
,
only
I
'm
afraid
she
would
take
it
as
an
insult
if
I
went
up
and
introduced
myself
.
"
"
I
assure
you
she
is
quite
happy
watching
us
,
"
replies
Constance
,
sweetly
;
being
,
for
the
most
part
,
not
fond
of
going
shares
with
a
sister
fair
one
in
any
of
the
proper
men
and
tall
that
are
wont
to
gather
about
her
.
But
he
is
persevering
.
"
Do
n't
you
think
that
a
little
improving
conversation
with
me
would
tend
to
make
her
happier
still
?
"
he
asks
;
banteringly
,
yet
in
earnest
.
"
I
tried
to
get
Gerard
to
introduce
me
,
but
I
could
not
make
out
exactly
what
was
up
;
he
seemed
to
take
it
as
a
personal
insult
.
You
wo
n't
mind
doing
me
that
good
turn
,
I
'm
sure
?
"
"
I
shall
be
most
happy
,
of
course
,
"
she
answers
,
hiding
her
displeasure
under
the
calm
smile
which
covers
all
her
emotions
,
or
approximations
to
emotion
.
And
with
apparent
readiness
she
leads
the
way
to
the
spot
where
,
couched
in
her
rushy
lair
,
the
subject
of
their
talk
sits
unconscious
,
with
her
eyes
riveted
on
the
darting
forms
beneath
her
.
"
Miss
Craven
,
Mr.
Linley
wishes
to
be
introduced
to
you
.
"
"
To
me
!
"
she
says
,
starting
;
her
eyes
opening
wide
,
and
cheeks
flushing
with
surprise
.
Then
two
bows
are
executed
,
and
the
thing
is
dona
Esther
is
not
longer
upon
the
all-alone
stone
;
she
has
other
occupation
for
her
ears
than
to
listen
to
the
screeching
of
the
Canada
geese
;
she
,
too
,
like
the
other
butterflies
,
has
got
a
tight-trousered
,
short-coated
patrician
in
tow
.
"
Linley
has
succeeded
,
do
you
see
?
"
says
the
man
to
whom
Esther
's
legs
have
had
the
happiness
to
appear
"
very
good
.
"
"
Mostly
does
;
it
is
a
little
way
he
has
!
"
"
Who
did
they
say
she
was
?
"
"
Somebody
's
companion
;
old
Blessington
's
,
I
think
.
"
"
Cunning
old
beggar
!
He
knows
what
he
is
about
,
though
he
does
pretend
to
be
stone-blind
.
"
"
Old
Blessington
's
companion
,
eh
?
I
'm
sure
I
wish
she
were
mine
.
"
"
A
sort
of
'
Abishag
the
Shunammite
,
'
I
suppose
?
"
These
are
some
of
the
comments
that
the
unknown
beauty
draws
forth
.
Five
minutes
later
,
Miss
Craven
's
scruples
—
such
as
never
having
skated
before
,
having
no
skates
,
etc.
—
being
overruled
by
her
new
acquaintance
,
she
is
sitting
on
the
bank
;
and
he
,
kneeling
before
her
,
is
fastening
some
one
else
's
unused
skates
on
her
little
feet
.
A
great
desire
for
pleasure
has
come
over
her
—
a
great
longing
for
warmth
and
colour
in
her
grey
life
,
that
looks
all
the
greyer
now
in
the
contrast
to
the
brilliant
reds
and
purples
of
these
strange
lives
with
which
it
is
brought
into
sudden
contact
.
A
great
delight
in
the
wintry
brightness
fills
her
—
in
the
shifting
,
varying
hues
—
in
the
bubbling
laughter
;
a
great
impulse
to
laugh
too
,
the
spirit
of
youth
rising
up
in
arms
against
the
tyranny
of
grief
.
The
low
sun
shoots
down
dazzling
crimson
rays
on
the
mere
's
dirty
white
face
.
The
swans
and
Solan
geese
are
exiled
to
a
little
corner
,
where
the
ice
has
been
broken
for
them
,
and
where
they
have
to
keep
swimming
round
and
round
to
prevent
the
invasion
of
their
little
territory
by
the
grasping
frost
.
Girls
that
cannot
skate
being
pushed
about
in
chairs
;
"
Whirr
!
whirr
!
"
they
rush
along
the
smooth
surface
at
a
headlong
pace
.
Men
,
with
their
arms
stretched
out
like
the
sails
of
a
windmill
,
advancing
cautiously
—
first
one
foot
,
then
the
other
—
just
managing
to
keep
on
their
feet
,
and
thinking
themselves
extremely
clever
for
so
managing
.
Other
men
and
women
flying
hand-in-hand
,
from
one
end
of
the
pool
to
the
other
,
in
long
,
smooth
slides
—
as
safe
and
secure
as
if
running
upon
their
own
feet
on
the
grass
.
Others
,
cutting
eights
,
and
all
manner
of
figures
,
whirling
round
upon
one
leg
,
and
making
themselves
altogether
remarkable
.
One
poor
gentleman
with
his
skates
in
the
air
,
and
head
starring
the
ice
;
brother
men
laughing
and
jeering
;
pretty
girls
pitying
—
light
laughter
mixed
with
their
condolences
also
.
Eight
people
dancing
a
quadrille
,
chaîne
des
dames
:
in
and
out
,
in
and
out
—
right
,
left
—
go
the
moving
figures
,
the
cerise
petticoats
,
the
glancing
feet
.
It
is
all
so
pretty
and
gay
.
When
one
has
spent
the
best
part
of
three
months
in
weeping
,
when
one
has
the
quick
blood
of
seventeen
in
one
's
veins
,
one
longs
to
get
up
and
run
,
and
dance
,
and
jump
about
too
.
"
There
's
no
wind
to-day
,
"
says
Linley
,
turning
his
face
to
the
north-east
,
whence
a
bitter
breath
comes
most
faintly
;
"
when
there
is
,
it
is
the
best
fun
in
the
world
to
get
a
very
light
cane
chair
and
a
big
umbrella
—
to
sit
on
the
one
and
hold
the
other
up
;
you
can
have
no
conception
of
the
terrific
rate
that
one
gets
along
at
.
"
"
I
should
think
it
sometimes
happened
that
the
cane
chair
and
the
big
umbrella
went
on
by
themselves
and
left
you
behind
?
"
says
Esther
archly
.
"
Frequently
,
but
that
makes
it
all
the
more
exciting
.
"
"
Does
it
?
"
"
Keep
hold
of
the
chair
,
push
it
gently
before
you
,
and
try
to
balance
yourself
as
well
as
you
can
,
"
continues
lie
,
giving
grave
instructions
to
his
new
pupil
.
"
How
can
one
balance
oneself
on
things
no
bigger
than
knife-blades
?
"
she
asks
,
grasping
desperately
the
chair-back
.
"
Rome
was
not
built
in
a
day
,
"
he
answers
,
with
a
cheery
laugh
;
"
try
!
"
She
obeys
,
and
moves
forward
two
or
three
timid
inches
;
then
stops
again
.
"
I
have
that
poor
gentleman
's
fate
before
my
mind
's
eye
,
"
she
says
,
nervously
.
"
I
feel
as
if
,
by
some
natural
attraction
,
one
's
feet
must
go
up
sky-wards
,
and
one
's
head
make
acquaintance
with
the
ice
.
"
"
No
necessity
at
all
,
"
replies
the
young
man
,
encouragingly
.
"
That
fellow
is
a
duffer
at
everything
;
he
is
the
very
worst
rider
I
ever
set
eyes
on-holds
his
whip
like
a
fishing-rod
.
"
"
Does
he
?
"
"
Look
at
that
girl
,
now
,
with
the
purple
feather
!
She
skims
along
like
a
bird
;
she
is
as
much
at
her
ease
as
if
she
were
in
her
arm-chair
at
home
.
By
Jove
!
no
,
she
ai
n't
though
!
"
For
,
as
he
speaks
,
"
Thud
!
"
comes
the
girl
with
the
purple
feather
down
in
a
sitting
posture
on
the
ice
:
men
crowd
round
,
inquire
into
casualties
,
pick
her
up
again
:
off
she
goes
!
"
You
must
be
more
careful
next
time
in
your
selection
of
examples
,
"
Esther
says
,
smiling
mischievously
;
"
that
one
was
not
encouraging
,
you
must
allow
.
"
Constitutionally
timid
,
she
stands
hesitating
,
in
half-shyness
,
half-fear
,
and
whole
dread
of
being
ridiculous
;
laughing
,
reddening
,
dimpling
in
the
happy
sunlight
—
as
pretty
a
picture
as
ever
little
terrier-faced
member
of
the
Household
has
seen
.
"
Perhaps
you
'd
get
on
better
if
you
tried
walking
between
two
people
,
"
he
says
,
suggestively
;
"
it
is
easier
than
with
a
chair
.
That
is
the
way
my
sister
began
—
I
on
one
side
,
do
n't
you
know
,
and
another
fellow
on
the
other
.
Here
,
Gerard
,
come
and
make
yourself
useful
;
give
Miss
Craven
your
arm
!
"
Gerard
looks
—
has
been
looking
all
the
while
;
sees
the
face
,
that
had
met
him
so
pale
and
dejected
three
hours
ago
,
transformed
by
the
keen
January
air
,
and
the
excitement
of
the
moment
,
into
more
than
its
old
loveliness
;
sees
the
soft
splendour
of
languishing
almond
eyes
,
the
guileless
baby-smile
.
It
is
the
transient
happiness
of
a
moment
that
has
wrought
the
change
,
and
he
,
in
his
rough
anger
,
attributes
it
to
the
insatiate
rabid
desire
for
admiration
.
"
She
would
flirt
in
her
coffin
,
"
he
says
to
himself
,
bitterly
;
and
so
answers
,
coldly
,
"
I
cannot
—
I
have
taken
my
skates
off
!
"
"
All
right
,
"
says
Mr.
Linley
,
gaily
,
and
then
,
in
an
aside
to
Esther
,
"
On
duty
,
evidently
!
"
"
Evidently
!
"
She
assents
with
a
faint
smile
,
but
her
lips
quiver
with
a
dumb
pain
.
"
He
need
not
have
slighted
me
so
openly
,
"
she
thinks
,
in
cruel
mortification
.
"
Perhaps
if
you
gave
me
your
hand
I
might
manage
to
steady
myself
gradually
,
"
she
says
naïvely
.
Mr.
Linley
has
no
objection
whatever
to
having
his
hand
convulsively
clutched
by
a
very
pretty
woman
,
even
though
it
is
so
clutched
,
not
in
affection
to
himself
,
but
in
the
spasmodic
effort
to
maintain
the
perpendicular
—
in
the
desperate
endeavour
to
hinder
her
feet
from
outrunning
body
and
head
.
And
so
she
totters
along
—
amused
,
flattered
,
frightened
;
and
far
too
much
absorbed
in
considerations
of
her
own
safety
,
to
be
at
all
aware
of
the
condescending
notice
that
several
of
the
more
worthy
gender
are
good
enough
to
bestow
upon
her
,
though
the
conceit
inborn
in
the
male
mind
would
have
made
them
completely
sceptical
of
that
fact
,
had
they
been
told
it
.
Meanwhile
Miss
Blessington
,
a
little
out
of
breath
with
her
exertions
,
is
resting
on
a
chair
,
in
bright
blue
velvet
and
a
more
delicate
pink-and-white
porcelain
face
than
any
of
the
other
shepherdesses
.
Over
her
Gerard
is
leaning
—
frowning
,
sad
,
and
heavy-hearted
.
Over
and
over
again
he
has
tried
to
turn
his
eyes
to
other
groups
,
but
again
and
again
,
contrary
to
his
will
,
they
return
and
fix
themselves
upon
that
slender
staggering
figure
in
black
.
Once
he
sees
her
on
the
point
of
falling
—
saved
only
by
being
caught
with
quick
adroitness
in
her
companion
's
arms
.
He
draws
his
breath
involuntarily
hard
.
How
dare
any
man
but
he
touch
her
—
lay
a
finger
upon
her
fair
person
?
One
of
the
old
simple
instincts
,
stronger
—
oh
,
how
far
stronger
!
—
than
any
of
the
restrictions
with
which
our
civilisation
has
sought
to
bind
them
—
a
great
lust
of
raging
jealousy
—
is
upon
him
.
"
I
hate
her
!
"
he
says
to
himself
,
fiercely
;
"
she
is
a
vile
unprincipled
coquette
.
Thank
God
,
I
found
her
out
in
time
!
Thank
God
,
I
washed
my
hands
of
her
before
it
was
too
late
!
And
yet
—
and
yet
—
if
I
could
but
pick
a
quarrel
with
that
fellow
!
"
What
right
has
Gerard
to
object
if
every
man
upon
the
ground
catch
her
in
his
arms
,
and
hold
her
there
under
his
very
eyes
?
He
has
washed
his
hands
of
her
,
thank
God
!
All
his
rights
of
proprietorship
in
womankind
centre
in
the
calm
blue
statue
,
smiling
with
even
placidness
on
himself
,
on
his
poodle
,
on
all
the
world
—
his
Constance
,
whom
no
one
is
thinking
of
taking
from
him
;
his
own
—
oh
,
blissful
thought
!
—
in
life
,
in
death
,
and
in
eternity
!
In
the
meantime
the
remarks
upon
Esther
vary
from
the
wildly
laudatory
to
the
discriminatingly
censuring
.
"
She
is
extwemely
dark
,
"
says
the
dwagoon
,
as
he
would
have
called
himself
;
"
a
thowough
bwunette
;
must
have
a
touch
of
the
tar-bwush
,
I
fancy
!
"
The
stable-clock
strikes
four
.
Esther
starts
,
as
much
as
scullion
Cinderella
started
at
the
chiming
midnight
.
"
I
must
go
"
she
says
,
hastily
;
"
I
shall
be
wanted
.
"
"
Wanted
?
"
he
repeats
,
inquiringly
.
"
And
are
not
you
wanted
here
I
You
cannot
be
in
two
places
at
once
,
like
a
bird
.
"
"
Mrs.
Blessington
will
want
me
—
I
am
her
companion
,
"
she
answers
,
colouring
slightly
.
"
I
daresay
you
did
not
know
it
.
"
(
"
He
would
not
have
been
so
civil
to
me
if
he
had
,
I
daresay
,
"
is
her
mental
reflection
.
)
"
Yes
,
I
did
.
"
"
Who
told
you
?
—
or
have
all
'
companions
'
such
a
family
likeness
that
you
detected
me
at
a
glance
?
"
"
Miss
Blessington
told
me
;
and
for
the
first
time
in
my
life
I
wished
myself
an
old
woman
,
"
he
replies
,
sentimentally
.
She
laughs
,
a
little
embarrassed
.
She
knows
as
well
as
he
does
that
he
does
not
wish
to
be
an
old
woman
,
even
for
the
pleasure
of
having
her
to
carry
his
air-cushion
and
spectacle-case
.
But
civil
speeches
are
always
more
or
less
untrue
,
and
none
the
less
pleasant
for
that
.
"
If
the
frost
holds
,
"
says
the
young
man
,
suggestively
—
taking
the
small
black
hand
which
she
has
timidly
proffered
,
not
being
by
any
means
sure
that
it
is
etiquette
for
a
"
companion
"
to
shake
hands
with
lords
'
eldest
sons
—
"
If
the
frost
holds
,
will
you
be
inclined
for
another
lesson
or
two
?
There
is
nothing
like
making
hay
when
the
sun
shines
—
say
to-morrow
?
"
Her
face
brightens
for
a
moment
;
it
is
so
pleasant
to
talk
gaily
,
and
be
admired
,
and
made
much
of
,
and
reminded
that
there
are
other
things
besides
death
and
poverty
and
servitude
;
then
her
countenance
falls
.
"
To-day
has
been
very
pleasant
,
"
she
says
,
naively
,
"
but
I
cannot
answer
for
to-morrow
.
"
"
Are
you
so
changeable
,
"
he
asks
,
with
a
laudable
though
unsuccessful
endeavour
to
fashion
his
jolly
little
dog-face
into
an
expression
of
reproachful
sentiment
,
"
as
not
to
know
to-day
what
you
will
like
or
not
like
tomorrow
?
"
"
I
know
what
I
shall
like
,
"
she
answers
,
gently
,
"
but
I
do
n't
know
what
other
people
will
.
Would
not
you
think
it
very
odd
if
your
valet
were
to
make
engagements
without
consulting
you
?
I
am
Mrs.
Blessington
's
valet
.
"
She
evidently
thinks
this
argument
so
conclusive
,
and
that
it
so
decidedly
closes
the
question
,
that
he
has
no
choice
but
to
loose
her
hand
;
and
she
,
having
no
other
farewells
to
make
,
turns
and
passes
homewards
through
the
crisply
rustling
sedges
.
"
Very
clean
about
the
fetlock
!
"
ejaculates
the
laconic
youth
,
unable
to
raise
his
mind
from
her
legs
;
following
them
with
his
eyes
,
as
she
climbs
the
grassy
slope
.
"
Yes
,
but
what
howible
boots
!
Whoever
could
have
had
the
atwocity
to
fwame
such
beetle-cwushers
?
"
CHAPTER
XXXVI
.
THE
frost
goes
,
but
so
does
not
St.
John
.
He
hunts
all
day
,
and
all
the
long
evenings
lounges
sedulously
on
the
sofa
beside
Constance
,
trying
to
feel
affectionate
:
trying
to
make
her
talk
—
trying
,
metaphorically
,
to
pull
the
string
at
his
fine
wax-doll
's
side
,
to
make
her
say
"
Pap-pa
"
and
"
Mam-ma
"
prettily
.
"
Since
I
am
to
spend
my
life
with
this
woman
,
"
he
says
to
himself
,
heavily
,
"
I
must
try
and
make
the
best
of
her
.
"
And
,
alas
!
alas
!
the
best
is
not
very
good
.
He
is
thirty
now
,
and
—
the
Gerards
are
a
long-lived
,
tough
race
—
he
may
live
till
ninety
.
He
asks
himself
,
now
and
then
,
in
a
sort
of
startled
terror
,
is
he
to
see
opposite
him
at
breakfast
,
every
day
for
the
next
sixty
years
,
this
carven
face
,
changeless
as
the
stone
saints
on
the
walls
of
Felton
Church
?
Of
all
the
one-half
of
creation
,
is
this
unsuggestive
,
unresponsive
,
negative
woman
to
be
his
sole
portion
?
"
It
is
her
misfortune
that
she
is
not
a
woman
of
science
,
"
as
Mr.
Shandy
mildly
remarked
of
his
wife
,
"
but
she
might
ask
a
question
.
"
Strive
as
he
may
against
the
conviction
,
the
yoke
that
he
has
taken
upon
himself
in
careless
apathy
has
already
begun
to
gall
his
withers
.
And
yet
it
was
not
(
as
you
may
imagine
)
pique
that
first
made
Gerard
Miss
Blessington
's
lover
.
It
was
partly
that
numb
indifference
as
to
anything
that
might
happen
to
him
,
that
always
follows
a
great
blow
,
partly
sheer
weariness
of
his
father
's
importunities
upon
the
subject
of
his
marriage
.
He
is
the
last
scion
of
a
family
that
has
come
down
in
direct
male
line
from
a
Norman
robber
:
if
it
be
tersely
predicated
of
him
on
his
tombstone
that
he
died
S.
P.
,
the
Hall
,
and
the
lake
,
and
the
wide
fat
lands
will
go
to
some
distant
needy
cousins
,
with
whom
Sir
Thomas
is
at
dagger
's
drawing
,
and
for
whom
he
cherishes
a
hatred
livelier
even
than
that
which
poachers
,
Irish
beggars
,
and
vulpecides
inspire
in
his
gentle
breast
.
The
fact
of
his
responsibilities
has
been
chimed
into
St.
John
's
ears
till
he
is
rather
weary
of
it
:
he
has
been
hearing
it
for
the
last
five-and-twenty
years
—
ever
since
indeed
,
that
solemn
day
when
,
petticoats
being
cast
aside
,
he
was
invested
with
the
virile
dignity
of
round
jacket
and
breeches
.
"
Why
do
n't
we
cut
off
the
entail
?
"
he
asks
impatiently
,
one
day
,
shortly
after
Esther
's
visit
—
a
visit
which
has
naturally
given
him
a
greater
distaste
for
the
subject
than
he
had
ever
before
experienced
.
"
You
and
I
together
can
do
it
,
cannot
we
,
Sir
Thomas
,
and
leave
the
property
to
the
Foundling
,
or
Hanwell
,
or
to
some
hospital
or
penitentiary
,
where
it
would
do
a
deal
more
good
,
I
do
n't
doubt
,
than
it
ever
has
in
our
hands
?
"
But
he
does
not
mean
it
;
his
pride
in
the
old
house
and
the
old
name
is
as
great
,
though
not
as
offensively
shown
,
as
his
father
's
.
"
It
's
all
your
cursed
selfishness
,
"
says
his
parent
,
strutting
and
fuming
about
,
one
morning
,
over
the
crimson
and
ash-coloured
squares
of
the
library
carpet
;
puffing
out
his
feathers
,
as
it
were
,
and
beginning
to
gobble-obble
.
"
You
prefer
your
lazy
,
lounging
club
life
,
your
French
chef
,
and
d
—
d
sybarite
habits
,
to
everything
else
under
heaven
;
you
do
n't
reflect
that
,
when
a
man
has
been
given
such
advantages
as
yours
,
he
owes
corresponding
duties
to
his
country
and
his
estate
,
and
—
and
—
and
his
father
—
"
concludes
Sir
Thomas
,
rather
at
a
loss
for
a
peroration
.
St.
John
lifts
his
eyebrows
almost
imperceptibly
at
the
last
clause
.
"
If
you
like
to
look
out
for
a
wife
for
me
,
"
he
says
,
flinging
himself
indolently
into
an
arm-chair
,
and
speaking
half-seriously
,
half-derisively
,
"
and
will
engage
to
undertake
all
the
bore
of
the
preliminaries
—
love-making
,
dancing
attendance
,
etc.
—
I
have
no
objection
to
marrying
,
since
the
duty
of
continuing
this
illustrious
race
has
been
perverse
enough
to
devolve
on
me
,
who
,
God
knows
,
am
not
ambitious
of
perpetuating
myself
.
"
"
Love-making
!
—
pooh
!
"
repeats
Sir
Thomas
,
contemptuously
;
"
we
need
have
none
of
that
rubbish
;
respect
and
esteem
are
a
deal
the
best
basis
to
go
upon
;
that
's
what
your
mother
and
I
began
life
with
—
"
"
And
have
continued
undiminished
up
to
the
present
day
,
"
says
St.
John
,
with
a
slight
sneer
.
"
Well
"
(
yawning
)
,
"
if
you
can
find
,
amongst
the
wide
range
of
your
acquaintance
,
any
young
lady
who
is
willing
io
respect
and
esteem
me
—
which
is
not
likely
—
or
to
respect
and
esteem
Felton
—
which
is
more
probable
,
and
,
after
all
,
comes
to
much
the
same
in
the
end
—
she
may
have
the
felicity
of
being
your
daughter-in-law
,
for
all
I
shall
do
to
hinder
it
:
anything
for
a
quiet
life
.
"
Sir
Thomas
turns
his
bright
little
fierce
eyes
sharply
upon
his
offspring
,
prepared
,
at
a
moment
's
notice
,
to
precipitate
himself
into
one
of
his
blustering
,
sputtering
,
God
damning
rages
if
he
detect
the
slightest
sign
of
mirth
or
derision
on
the
young
man
's
face
.
But
none
such
is
to
be
found
;
his
downcast
eyes
are
fixed
with
lazy
interest
upon
his
own
substantial
legs
,
stretched
in
black-and-crimson-ribbed
stockings
,
straight
before
him
.
The
ire
of
his
parent
's
gaze
is
mitigated
.
"
If
you
are
in
earnest
,
"
he
says
,
surlily
,
"
and
not
making
a
jest
of
this
,
as
you
mostly
do
of
every
