Brown,
”
explained
Mrs
Argiropoulo
to
Mrs
Spencer
;
“
he’s
the
most
conspicuous
man
,
after
all
;
and
,
as
it
were
,
it
stamps
her
at
once
.
By
the
way
,
two
R.A.’s
,
Paints
and
Smeers
,
have
already
said
that
they
would
like
to
paint
her
.
”
“
Walter
Hamlin
will
never
let
her
be
painted
by
an
R.A.
,
”
answered
Mrs
Spencer
,
fiercely
;
“
and
Annie
has
far
too
much
artistic
feeling
to
endure
such
a
thing
.
Why
,
Mr
Bones
has
been
drawing
her
for
the
last
week
,
and
papa
made
a
crayon
of
her
.
”
As
Anne
passed
through
the
crowd
on
Posthlethwaite’s
arm
every
one
turned
to
look
at
her
.
And
then
it
suddenly
flashed
upon
her
that
she
was
the
person
people
had
been
staring
at
,
she
was
the
lion
of
the
evening
—
she
,
the
servant
whom
the
great
poet‐painter
had
adopted
.
Every
one
was
looking
at
her
;
she
felt
horribly
alone
,
numb
,
unreal
.
At
that
moment
Hamlin
came
up
.
“
Have
you
amused
yourself
?
”
he
asked
.
“
Why
,
what’s
the
matter
?
do
you
feel
ill
?
”
“
Only
very
tired
.
Oh
,
why
didn’t
you
turn
up
before
?
”
Anne’s
voice
was
so
wretched
and
supplicating
that
Hamlin
felt
quite
terrified
.
“
Where’s
Mrs
Spencer
?
”
he
asked
.
“
It
must
be
that
hot
room
.
Edith
,
do
take
Miss
Brown
home
,
she
looks
so
awfully
tired
.
”
“
Permit
me
to
take
you
down‐stairs
,
”
said
the
mellifluous
fat
voice
of
Posthlethwaite
.
“
I
will
take
Miss
Brown
down
myself
,
if
you
please
,
Posthlethwaite
;
”
and
Hamlin
pushed
the
prince
of
æsthetes
roughly
aside
.
“
Why
did
you
not
show
yourself
the
whole
evening
?
”
asked
Anne
feebly
,
while
he
was
helping
her
on
with
her
cloak
.
“
Why
—
because
—
I
thought
I
had
no
right
to
monopolise
you
always
,
”
answered
Hamlin
in
a
whisper
.
When
the
two
women
were
alone
in
the
brougham
,
Anne
could
stand
it
no
longer
;
and
leaning
her
head
in
the
corner
,
she
began
to
cry
.
“
Why
,
what’s
the
matter
,
Annie
?
”
cried
Mrs
Spencer
,
drawing
her
close
to
her
.
“
What’s
the
matter
,
my
dear
girl
?
”
“
Nothing
—
nothing
,
”
answered
Anne
,
wiping
her
eyes
.
“
I
suppose
it
is
because
I
am
so
worn‐out
—
so
—
”
“
It’s
that
vile
,
ostentatious
party
,
”
replied
the
little
woman
,
half
in
consolation
,
half
in
pride
—
“
mere
stupid
crushes
—
no
real
society
,
as
we
have
it
.
And
I
do
think
it
is
so
disgusting
of
Mrs
Argiropoulo
to
make
all
the
people
stare
at
you
as
if
you
were
a
burlesque
actress
.
Oh
,
I
know
that
set
of
lion‐hunting
,
purse‐proud
,
would‐be
artistic
people
.
They
would
have
your
photograph
in
all
the
shop‐windows
at
once
,
and
Royal
Highnesses
to
meet
you
.
Papa
and
I
always
wonder
that
Walter
hasn’t
cut
all
those
horrid
sycophants
before
.
You
know
that
it’s
only
artists
and
poets
of
our
school
who
will
ever
appreciate
you
really
,
although
the
others
would
hawk
you
about
as
a
sort
of
professional
beauty
.
”
CHAPTER
VI
.
THE
sudden
discovery
that
she
was
the
standard
beauty
of
the
most
prominent
artistic
set
,
and
accepted
as
such
by
the
rest
of
society
,
would
have
greatly
disturbed
almost
any
woman
.
But
Anne
Brown’s
nature
was
too
completely
homogeneous
—
too
completely
without
the
innumerable
strata
,
and
abysses
,
and
peaks
,
and
winding
ways
of
modern
women’s
characters
—
for
her
to
experience
any
of
the
mixed
feelings
of
pride
,
and
disgust
,
and
humiliation
,
and
general
uncomfortablehess
which
would
have
been
the
lot
of
a
more
complex
nature
.
The
atoms
of
her
character
were
not
easily
shaken
into
new
patterns
:
it
was
coherent
,
and
,
like
most
coherent
things
,
difficult
to
upset
,
slow
to
move
,
and
quick
to
settle
down
.
After
the
first
shock
of
surprise
,
she
resigned
herself
,
without
doubts
,
or
diffidence
,
or
elation
,
to
her
new
place
.
That
she
was
more
beautiful
than
other
women
had
indeed
never
occurred
to
her
before
;
but
once
that
it
had
been
proved
to
her
she
accepted
it
as
a
fact
,
as
she
had
accepted
as
a
fact
the
still
stranger
news
that
Hamlin
had
singled
her
out
to
change
her
life
and
love
her
.
She
did
not
take
it
at
all
as
a
merit
or
any
other
exciting
thing
in
herself
:
the
only
effect
which
it
had
upon
her
was
to
strengthen
a
curious
feeling
,
constitutional
in
her
,
and
resulting
probably
from
the
very
coherence
and
weightiness
of
her
character
,
that
she
was
fated
to
be
or
do
something
different
from
other
women
—
a
sort
of
sense
of
tragic
passiveness
,
which
always
formed
the
background
of
her
happiness
.
Moreover
,
the
discovery
which
she
had
made
at
Mrs
Argiropoulo’s
somehow
made
Anne’s
position
more
intelligible
and
simple
to
herself
.
She
had
heard
of
other
men
who
had
educated
and
married
girls
of
the
lower
orders
on
account
of
their
beauty
.
Hamlin’s
behaviour
was
now
no
longer
a
mystery
to
her
;
and
the
absence
of
mystery
served
merely
,
to
Anne’s
quite
unromantic
,
practically
passionate
,
half‐southern
temper
,
to
make
Hamlin’s
nobleness
and
goodness
more
obvious
to
her
.
She
had
the
curious
Italian
capacity
for
feeling
an
ideal
passion
—
a
passion
which
was
merely
a
sublimated
form
of
friendship
and
admiration
—
for
a
real
personality
;
and
her
instinctive
desire
was
merely
to
get
nearer
that
real
personality
.
But
much
as
she
tried
,
the
reality
of
Hamlin
seemed
to
escape
and
baffle
her
:
he
was
a
complex
man
,
and
she
a
homogeneous
woman
;
and
as
she
could
not
see
Hamlin
well
in
detail
,
she
loved
him
in
the
very
simple
and
broad
outlines
which
she
was
able
to
comprehend
.
Now
that
she
had
settled
down
in
æsthetic
society
,
and
found
her
place
,
and
got
to
understand
the
main
points
of
things
,
she
was
quite
ideally
happy
.
Her
life
was
very
full
,
and
was
surrounded
by
a
flood
of
love
,
—
on
her
side
or
on
Hamlin’s
?
She
scarcely
knew
;
but
she
knew
that
she
was
happy
.
By
this
time
the
round
of
sight‐seeing
,
play‐going
,
excursions
,
and
introductions
,
was
over
;
her
life
had
subsided
into
the
normal
.
Its
object
,
she
felt
,
as
one
feels
a
wholesome
and
agreeable
desire
for
food
or
sleep
,
was
to
make
herself
as
worthy
as
possible
of
Hamlin
,
or
rather
to
let
him
find
in
her
the
best
possible
bargain
.
She
worked
very
hard
at
all
the
things
which
the
school
had
left
incomplete
,
—
at
what
,
living
in
that
æsthetic
society
,
seemed
to
her
the
solid
requisites
of
life
.
She
read
history
and
biography
and
poetry
,
with
the
determination
with
which
other
girls
,
anticipating
marriage
,
might
study
manuals
of
domestic
economy
;
and
she
worked
at
developing
her
taste
in
art
and
music
as
others
might
have
practised
cooking
or
dressmaking
;
for
these
were
the
things
which
would
be
requisite
in
Hamlin’s
spiritual
household
.
The
people
around
her
,
the
men
and
women
of
Hamlin’s
set
,
seemed
to
her
as
necessary
,
as
inevitable
,
as
normal
as
the
trees
and
houses
all
round
.
Some
of
them
she
liked
,
and
some
she
disliked
;
but
their
ideas
,
though
sometimes
absurd
caricatures
,
and
their
tempers
,
though
often
intolerable
,
seemed
to
Anne
quite
natural
and
proper
in
the
main
,
though
rendered
ridiculous
or
disagreeable
in
individuals
.
Indeed
she
got
rather
to
believe
in
imperfect
individuals
,
—
being
thus
constantly
either
made
cross
by
the
touchiness
,
the
morbidness
,
the
disgusting
fleshliness
,
the
intolerance
of
the
æsthetes
around
her
,
or
made
to
laugh
by
their
affectations
,
their
vanity
,
their
inconsistency
,
their
grotesque
manias
of
wickedness
and
mysticism
—
while
unable
to
judge
or
condemn
the
general
,
intellectual
,
and
moral
condition
of
which
these
individual
excrescences
were
the
result
.
Some
of
the
people
were
distinctly
repulsive
,
or
distinctly
boring
,
or
distinctly
annoying
to
her
;
others
,
like
Mrs
Spencer
and
her
father
and
mother
and
sisters
,
decidedly
lovable
;
others
,
like
little
Chough
,
decidedly
amusing
and
amiable
:
and
she
took
them
as
they
came
,
but
with
the
indifference
of
concentrated
feeling
;
for
what
did
it
matter
whether
she
cared
for
them
,
or
they
cared
for
her
,
as
long
as
she
was
doing
her
best
to
deserve
Hamlin
?
Meanwhile
Anne
Brown
read
quantities
of
medieval
and
Elizabethan
literature
;
went
with
Hamlin
to
see
pictures
and
hear
music
;
studied
Dante
and
Shakespeare
—
the
algebra
and
arithmetic
,
so
to
speak
,
of
the
æsthetic
set
—
and
even
began
,
secretly
,
to
work
at
a
Greek
grammar
.
Twice
a‐week
Cosmo
Chough
came
to
practise
her
accompaniments
with
her
;
and
twice
a‐week
also
,
of
an
evening
,
friends
dropped
in
at
the
house
at
Hammersmith
,
when
Mrs
Macgregor
would
leave
her
nephew
and
niece
,
as
she
called
her
,
to
entertain
the
guests
.
On
other
evenings
Anne
would
usually
go
to
the
house
of
one
of
the
set
,
where
literature
and
art
,
and
the
faults
of
friends
,
and
the
wrong‐headedness
of
the
public
,
were
largely
discussed
;
music
was
made
,
young
long‐haired
Germans
on
the
loose
performing
;
and
poets
,
especially
the
inexhaustible
Chough
,
would
recite
their
compositions
,
perched
on
the
arms
of
sofas
,
or
stretched
on
the
hearth‐rug
;
while
the
ladies
went
to
sleep
,
or
pretended
to
do
so
,
over
the
descriptions
of
the
kisses
of
cruel
,
blossom‐mouthed
women
,
who
sucked
out
their
lovers’
hearts
,
bit
their
lips
,
and
strewed
their
apartments
with
coral‐like
drops
of
blood
.
Most
of
these
poets
,
as
Anne
speedily
discovered
,
were
young
men
of
harmless
lives
,
and
altogether
unacquainted
with
the
beautiful
,
baleful
ladies
they
represented
as
sucking
at
their
vitals
;
and
none
was
more
utterly
harmless
than
Cosmo
Chough
.
Instead
of
the
terrible
Faustinas
,
Messalinas
,
and
Lucretia
Borgias
to
whom
his
poems
were
addressed
,
the
poor
little
man
had
in
his
miserable
home
in
the
north
of
London
a
wife
older
than
himself
,
often
bedridden
and
always
half
crazy
,
who
turned
the
house
in
a
sort
of
disorderly
litter
,
neglected
her
children
,
and
vented
on
her
husband
the
most
jealous
and
perverse
temper
;
but
the
victim
of
Venus
,
as
he
styled
himself
,
nursed
her
with
absolute
devotion
,
denied
himself
every
gratification
to
allow
her
a
servant
and
send
his
children
to
school
,
and
made
all
new‐comers
believe
that
Mrs
Cosmo
Chough
was
the
most
angelic
invalid
that
the
world
had
ever
seen
.
People
in
the
set
had
got
accustomed
to
this
fact
,
and
treated
Chough
merely
as
an
amusing
little
caricature
of
genius
;
but
when
Anne
understood
the
real
state
of
the
case
,
she
was
deeply
touched
,
and
possessed
with
a
violent
desire
to
help
the
little
man
.
He
could
not
,
indeed
,
restrain
his
habit
of
alluding
in
pompous
language
to
Phryne
,
Pasiphaë
,
La
Belle
Heaulmière
,
Madame
du
Barry
,
and
all
the
most
celebrated
improprieties
of
all
times
and
nations
;
nor
from
discussing
the
most
striking
literary
obscenities
,
from
Petronius
to
Walt
Whitman
.
But
although
at
first
surprised
(
as
every
one
was
surprised
and
indeed
shocked
)
by
Anne’s
unblushing
and
quietly
resolute
—
“
I
think
you
had
better
leave
that
subject
alone
,
Mr
Chough
”
—
he
became
quite
devoted
to
Anne
.
When
he
gave
a
set
of
lectures
,
in
Mrs
Spencer’s
house
,
on
what
was
nominally
Elizabethan
drama
,
but
virtually
the
unmentionable
play
of
Ford
,
and
the
ladies
dropped
off
one
by
one
and
merely
laughed
at
poor
Cosmo’s
eccentricities
,
Anne
had
the
courage
to
sit
out
the
performance
,
and
to
tell
Chough
openly
that
he
ought
to
be
ashamed
of
himself
for
holding
forth
on
such
subjects
—
a
proceeding
which
made
Hamlin’s
friends
blame
Miss
Brown
for
want
of
womanly
feeling
and
prudishness
alike
;
and
which
put
Hamlin
just
a
little
out
of
temper
,
until
she
answered
his
unspoken
censure
by
remarking
,
with
a
sort
of
Italian
bluntness
and
seriousness
,
that
a
woman
of
her
age
had
no
business
not
to
understand
the
real
meaning
of
such
things
,
and
understanding
them
,
not
to
let
the
poets
know
that
she
would
not
tolerate
them
.
“
You
see
,
it
enters
into
their
artistic
effects
,
”
explained
Mrs
Spencer
.
“
I
don’t
like
such
things
personally
,
but
of
course
everything
is
legitimate
in
art
.
”
“
They
may
be
legitimate
in
art
,
”
answered
Anne
,
sceptically
,
“
but
they
shan’t
be
legitimate
in
my
presence
.
”
To
return
to
Chough
.
Anne
gradually
became
the
confidant
of
the
domestic
difficulties
,
though
not
of
the
domestic
shame
,
of
the
little
poet
;
and
to
every
one’s
great
astonishment
,
she
obtained
Hamlin’s
permission
to
have
one
of
Chough’s
little
girls
at
Hammersmith
every
Saturday
till
Monday
,
and
tried
to
instil
into
the
miserable
puny
imps
some
notion
of
how
to
behave
and
how
to
amuse
themselves
.
“
You
are
not
going
to
take
that
child
out
in
the
carriage
with
you
,
surely
?
”
asked
Hamlin
,
the
first
Sunday
that
Maggy
Chough
spent
at
Hammersmith
.
“
Of
course
I
am
,
”
answered
Anne
.
“
She’s
the
daughter
of
your
most
intimate
friend
;
surely
you
can’t
grudge
the
poor
little
thing
some
amusement
.
And
I
want
you
to
go
with
us
to
the
Zoo
,
Mr
Hamlin
.
I’m
sure
it’s
much
more
fascinating
than
the
Grosvenor
or
the
Elgin
rooms
.
”
Hamlin
smiled
;
and
next
day
made
a
crayon
drawing
of
Anne
,
one
of
the
dozens
in
his
studio
,
with
Chough’s
child
;
but
he
managed
to
make
Anne
look
mournfully
mysterious
,
and
the
child
haggard
and
wild
,
so
that
people
thought
it
represented
Medea
and
one
of
the
children
of
Jason
.
So
far
Anne’s
acquaintance
were
entirely
limited
to
the
æsthetic
set
;
but
there
were
two
exceptions
.
One
was
a
couple
of
sisters
,
Mary
and
Marjory
Leigh
,
who
existed
as
it
were
on
the
borderland
—
Mary
Leigh
being
a
sort
of
amateur
painter
with
strong
literary
proclivities
;
the
other
was
Richard
Brown
,
who
,
after
the
meeting
at
Mrs
Argiropoulo’s
,
called
at
Hammersmith
,
was
politely
received
by
Hamlin
,
with
whom
he
appeared
quite
reconciled
,
and
talked
on
a
variety
of
indifferent
subjects
,
as
if
Anne
Brown
had
never
been
his
ward
.
Hamlin
had
apparently
never
appeared
to
him
in
the
light
of
a
slave‐buyer
and
seducer
,
and
all
parties
had
apparently
never
been
in
any
save
their
present
position
.
Anne
asked
her
cousin
to
one
or
two
of
their
evenings
:
he
came
,
seemed
to
know
one
or
two
people
slightly
,
and
although
professing
profound
ignorance
of
art
,
managed
to
interest
one
or
two
of
the
æsthetic
brotherhood
by
developing
his
views
on
the
necessity
of
extending
artistic
training
to
the
lower
classes
.
“
He
isn’t
at
all
a
stupid
man
,
that
cousin
of
yours
,
”
remarked
little
Mrs
Spencer
;
“
and
I
do
think
he
is
so
right
in
wishing
to
give
poor
people
a
taste
of
beauty
.
”
“
I’m
sure
we
are
most
of
us
poor
people
,
and
don’t
always
get
a
taste
of
anything
else
,
Edith
,
”
cried
her
father
,
the
veteran
painter
in
tempera
,
who
was
a
fearful
punster
.
“
Oh
papa
,
you
know
what
I
mean
;
and
I’m
sure
art
will
gain
ever
so
much
.
It’s
only
what
Mr
Ruskin
has
said
over
and
over
again
,
and
Mr
Morris
is
always
talking
about
.
”
“
Any
one
is
free
to
give
the
lower
classes
that
taste
of
beauty
,
as
long
as
I
am
not
required
to
see
or
speak
to
the
noble
workmen
,
”
said
Hamlin
.
“
I
hate
all
that
democratic
bosh
.
”
“
Oh
,
I
know
,
Watty
;
your
ancestors
kept
negroes
,
and
you
would
like
to
have
negroes
yourself
,
”
said
Mrs
Spencer
,
hotly
.
“
Heaven
forbid
!
I
only
ask
to
be
left
alone
,
my
dear
Edith
,
especially
by
reformers
.
”
At
any
rate
,
Richard
Brown
was
permitted
to
show
himself
sometimes
in
æsthetic
company
.
But
Richard
Brown
did
not
avail
himself
much
of
the
condescending
permission
to
improve
his
mind
;
and
neither
at
her
own
house
(
for
people
always
spoke
of
Miss
Brown’s
house
now
)
nor
at
the
houses
of
any
of
her
friends
would
Anne
have
had
much
opportunity
of
seeing
her
cousin
,
had
he
not
,
by
a
curious
chance
,
been
a
frequent
visitor
at
the
house
of
the
Leigh
girls
.
Mary
Leigh
was
,
as
already
said
,
a
demi‐semi‐æsthete
;
she
had
studied
art
in
an
irregular
,
Irish
sort
of
way
,
and
she
had
a
literary
,
romantic
kind
of
imagination
,
which
fitted
her
rather
for
an
illustrator
than
a
painter
.
She
felt
the
incompleteness
of
her
own
endowment
,
in
a
gentle
,
half‐humorous
,
half‐sad
way
;
and
the
incompleteness
of
her
own
life
—
for
her
ideal
of
happiness
was
to
travel
about
,
to
live
in
Italy
,
and
this
she
had
cheerfully
sacrificed
to
please
her
sister
,
whose
only
interests
in
life
were
school
boards
,
and
depauperisation
,
and
(
it
must
be
admitted
)
a
mild
amount
of
flirtation
with
young
men
of
scientific
and
humanitarian
tendencies
.
Between
the
sisters
there
was
perfect
love
,
but
not
perfect
understanding
;
and
Mary
Leigh
,
who
felt
a
little
lonely
,
a
little
shut
into
herself
by
her
younger
sister
,
who
was
at
once
a
philosopher
and
a
baby
in
her
eyes
,
vented
her
imaginative
and
artistic
cravings
in
a
passionate
admiration
for
Hamlin’s
strange
and
beautiful
ward
or
fiancée
,
a
kind
of
intellectual
fervour
which
Anne
was
as
remarkable
for
inspiring
as
she
seemed
unable
to
inspire
either
ordinary
liking
or
ordinary
love
:
and
as
Mary
Leigh
likewise
adored
Hamlin
,
and
Hamlin
in
return
thought
Mary
Leigh
a
nice
sort
of
girl
,
Anne
Brown
did
what
visiting
and
sight‐seeing
and
shopping
was
left
to
her
almost
always
in
Mary
Leigh’s
company
.
Now
,
if
Anne
was
the
idol
of
the
æsthetic
Mary
,
the
humanitarian
and
practical
younger
sister
,
who
,
with
the
cut‐and‐dry
decision
of
a
philosopher
of
twenty‐two
,
looked
upon
æsthetics
and
æsthetes
as
somewhat
pestilent
in
nature
,
had
her
idol
also
in
a
very
different
person
,
and
this
was
no
other
than
Richard
Brown
,
to
be
whose
lieutenant
in
some
of
his
philanthropical
and
educational
schemes
was
Marjory’s
highest
ambition
.
Richard
Brown
had
,
ever
since
meeting
his
cousin
at
Mrs
Argiropoulo’s
in
the
character
of
an
artistic
beauty
,
made
up
his
mind
that
Anne
was
no
concern
of
his
,
and
was
luckily
disposed
of
in
the
æsthetic
set
;
and
for
some
time
he
almost
took
a
pleasure
in
making
her
understand
,
whenever
he
met
her
at
the
Leighs’
house
in
Chelsea
,
that
he
did
not
in
the
least
expect
her
to
take
an
interest
,
or
pretend
to
take
an
interest
,
in
the
plans
which
he
discussed
with
Marjory
Leigh
.
Anne
on
the
other
hand
,
imbued
with
Hamlin’s
and
Chough’s
theory
that
all
attempts
at
improving
the
world
result
merely
in
failure
,
and
that
the
only
wise
occupation
of
a
noble
mind
is
to
make
for
itself
a
paradise
of
beautiful
thoughts
and
forms
and
emotions
,
was
extremely
sceptical
of
her
cousin’s
and
Marjory’s
schemes
,
and
once
or
twice
declared
her
disbelief
with
perfect
openness
.
Richard
Brown
was
at
first
annoyed
,
then
amused
,
then
indignant
;
and
then
,
seeing
how
completely
Anne’s
ideas
were
borrowed
from
her
set
,
and
also
how
completely
unsuitable
they
were
to
her
downright
,
serious
,
and
practical
nature
,
he
determined
,
not
without
vanity
playing
a
part
as
well
as
conviction
,
to
“
let
a
little
light
,
”
as
he
expressed
it
,
into
her
mind
.
There
had
been
recently
founded
,
by
some
friends
of
his
,
a
kind
of
club
where
girls
of
the
dressmaker’s
apprentice
and
shopwomen
class
might
spend
their
leisure
moments
in
reading
and
meeting
each
other
;
which
club
,
besides
a
library
and
reading‐room
,
offered
to
its
members
a
certain
number
of
classes
or
sets
of
lectures
on
various
subjects
,
delivered
at
a
nominal
price
,
after
work
hours
.
The
lecturers
or
teachers
were
nearly
all
young
ladies
:
Marjory
Leigh
had
for
some
time
lectured
on
sanitary
arrangements
(
this
being
her
especial
hobby
)
,
and
Mary
Leigh
was
going
to
set
up
a
drawing‐class
.
Anne
Brown
,
practical
by
nature
and
æsthetically
sceptical
by
training
,
had
no
very
great
belief
in
the
famous
club
;
she
had
been
told
so
often
that
mankind
is
too
stupid
and
degraded
to
be
helped
,
that
she
had
almost
got
to
believe
it
.
But
she
let
herself
be
taken
one
evening
to
a
lecture
,
at
what
she
called
Marjory’s
college
.
The
lecture
was
just
beginning
as
they
entered
the
little
,
white‐washed
,
bare
room
up
innumerable
stairs
.
Four
or
five
young
women
,
decently
dressed
,
were
seated
at
desks
,
copy‐books
and
ink‐stands
before
them
;
and
a
beautiful
little
girl
,
who
had
been
pointed
out
to
Anne
in
æsthetic
circles
as
a
rising
poetess
,
was
seated
opposite
them
at
the
end
of
a
table
.
The
Leighs
and
Anne
sat
down
silently
near
the
door
,
and
the
lecture
began
.
It
was
on
modern
history
.
The
pupils
listened
with
the
greatest
attention
,
their
pens
flying
on
their
copy‐books
.
The
lecturer
,
a
small
,
graceful
,
extremely
frail
little
creature
,
began
in
a
somewhat
tremulous
voice
;
then
gradually
,
as
she
got
more
excited
,
became
more
voluble
,
excited
,
and
absolutely
eloquent
.
“
She
is
too
delicate
for
such
work
,
”
whispered
Marjory
,
“
but
she
will
do
it
.
”
Anne
listened
.
But
she
did
not
follow
the
lecturer’s
argument
very
closely
.
She
thought
what
these
girls
were
,
what
the
drudgery
of
their
work
,
the
temptations
of
their
leisure
,
the
hopeless
narrowness
of
their
horizon
;
and
she
thought
also
,
the
thought
throbbing
on
almost
like
dull
pain
,
what
it
would
have
been
for
her
,
when
she
also
was
alone
in
the
world
—
when
she
had
drudgery
on
the
one
hand
and
temptation
on
the
other
—
when
her
whole
nature
had
been
parched
and
withered
for
want
of
a
few
words
that
should
speak
of
higher
and
nobler
things
,
—
had
she
been
permitted
,
once
a‐week
,
to
come
to
such
a
place
,
to
hear
about
such
subjects
,
to
be
spoken
to
by
such
an
earnest
and
enthusiastic
and
exquisite
creature
as
this
.
At
the
end
of
the
lecture
the
girls
crowded
shyly
round
the
lecturer
,
some
to
beg
her
to
explain
a
point
,
others
to
ask
for
books
on
the
subject
,
all
of
them
to
thank
with
pathetic
earnestness
.
Then
they
went
away
,
and
the
Leigh
girls
came
forward
to
the
lecturer
.
From
where
she
sat
she
could
not
see
the
new‐comers
;
and
she
was
astonished
,
and
in
a
way
awe‐stricken
,
on
seeing
Anne
Brown
,
the
exotic
beauty
of
whom
she
had
heard
so
much
,
whose
portrait
she
had
seen
in
so
many
studios
,
and
to
whom
she
had
been
introduced
almost
in
fear
and
trembling
,
for
Anne
had
a
kind
of
awe‐inspiring
fascination
for
imaginative
people
.
Anne
,
on
the
other
hand
,
was
silent
and
depressed
,
and
the
little
poetess
must
have
made
up
her
mind
that
this
magnificent
and
sombre
creature
was
as
sullen
and
lethargic
and
haughty
as
one
of
Michelangelo’s
goddesses
.
But
in
reality
Miss
Brown
could
have
laid
her
head
on
one
of
the
desks
and
cried
like
a
child
.
When
,
the
following
day
,
Mary
Leigh
came
to
take
her
out
for
a
walk
,
Anne
looked
as
if
she
had
received
bad
news
,
or
as
if
she
had
bad
news
to
communicate
.
She
answered
only
in
monosyllables
;
until
,
as
they
were
looking
in
at
a
shop
window
,
she
suddenly
turned
to
her
companion
.
“
Do
you
think
,
”
she
said
hesitatingly
,
“
that
I
might
perhaps
—
teach
something
at
Marjory’s
college
?
”
“
Teach
!
”
exclaimed
Mary
Leigh
in
astonishment
;
“
you
teach
!
Why
,
what
would
you
teach
,
Anne
dear
?
”
Anne
was
silent
.
She
sighed
.
“
That’s
just
what
I
have
been
thinking
all
the
morning
—
I
fear
—
but
you
see
I
do
so
want
to
teach
something
.
You
see
,
that
little
poet‐girl
gives
up
her
time
to
it
,
and
she
was
born
a
lady
,
and
doesn’t
know
—
can’t
know
—
all
the
good
she
is
doing
.
While
I
—
”
Mary
Leigh
squeezed
her
hand
.
“
We
will
ask
your
cousin
,
”
she
said
.
“
Oh
no
,
not
Dick
—
don’t
mention
it
to
Dick
,
”
answered
Anne
;
“
he
is
sure
to
make
difficulties
and
laugh
at
me
—
he
thinks
me
a
useless
thing
.
”
“
You
a
useless
thing
!
”
replied
the
enthusiastic
Irish
girl
looking
at
her
companion
.
“
Why
,
then
—
then
all
the
Titians
in
the
gallery
,
and
the
Elgin
marbles
,
and
all
Keats
,
and
all
Shelley
,
and
Beethoven
,
and
Mozart
,
must
be
useless
also
.
”
Anne
sighed
.
“
All
those
things
didn’t
make
themselves
,
”
she
answered
.
“
It’s
the
artists
who
were
useful
and
whom
we
have
to
thank
.
”
The
other
Miss
Leigh
was
immensely
astonished
,
and
,
with
her
youthful
intolerance
,
rather
indignant
at
Anne’s
suggestion
.
“
I
think
,
”
said
Anne
,
hesitatingly
,
“
that
I
could
,
with
a
little
work
,
manage
medieval
literature
—
at
least
medieval
lyrics
.
”
Marjory
shook
her
head
.
“
There’s
too
much
of
that
sort
of
thing
already
,
”
she
said
.
“
Every
one
wants
to
teach
literature
.
Where’s
the
use
of
telling
them
about
a
parcel
of
Provençal
and
old
French
and
German
and
Italian
people
,
when
they
don’t
yet
know
the
difference
between
Voltaire
and
Molière
,
and
Goethe
and
Frau
von
Hillern
?
”
“
That’s
true
,
”
Anne
said
sadly
.
Marjory
was
rather
sorry
for
her
rough
practicalness
,
but
at
the
same
time
she
had
a
blind
impulse
to
harass
an
æsthete
.
“
Political
economy
is
what
we
want
most
,
”
she
said
;
and
,
as
the
door
opened
and
Richard
Brown
entered
,
she
went
on
—
“
Isn’t
it
true
that
political
economy
is
what
we
want
most
at
the
college
,
Mr
Brown
?
”
“
Yes
,
”
answered
Richard
.
“
How
are
you
,
Miss
Leigh
?
—
how
are
you
,
Annie
?
What
about
it
?
”
“
Oh
,
only
that
your
cousin
wants
to
teach
at
the
college
,
and
I
tell
her
that
literature
is
no
use
,
and
that
political
economy
is
what
we
want
.
”
“
You
want
to
teach
,
Annie
?
”
cried
Brown
,
and
his
face
assumed
that
look
of
somewhat
brutal
contempt
hidden
under
suavity
of
manner
,
which
Anne
hated
so
much
.
“
You
want
to
teach
?
How
dull
æsthetic
society
must
be
getting
,
to
be
sure
!
”
“
I
am
not
dull
,
Dick
,
”
answered
Anne
,
sternly
;
“
but
it
struck
me
that
,
having
been
a
poor
girl
without
education
myself
—
until
”
(
and
she
looked
her
cousin
reproachfully
in
the
face
)
“
Mr
Hamlin
had
me
taught
—
I
have
an
obligation
to
help
other
girls
like
what
I
was
,
greater
than
the
obligation
of
people
who
have
always
been
educated
.
I
daresay
there
may
be
nothing
that
I
can
teach
;
but
there
is
no
reason
to
laugh
at
me
.
”
“
Laugh
at
you
!
”
cried
Brown
.
“
Oh
,
not
in
the
least
!
I
was
only
smiling
at
the
cool
way
in
which
you
absolve
those
who
are
born
in
fortunate
circumstances
from
the
obligation
which
you
yourself
feel
.
”
“
I
don’t
think
that’s
quite
true
,
Dick
,
”
answered
Anne
,
simply
.
“
You
think
it’s
absurd
on
my
part
,
and
I
knew
you
would
,
because
you
think
me
frivolous
and
artistic
.
”
“
Well
,
”
said
Brown
,
evidently
surprised
at
her
manner
,
and
looking
searchingly
in
her
pale
,
strange‐featured
face
,
“
what
do
you
think
you
might
teach
?
”
—
his
voice
was
much
gentler
.
“
At
present
”
—
Anne’s
voice
sank
,
for
she
felt
the
uselessness
of
her
offer
—
“
I
can
think
only
of
medieval
literature
”
(
Brown
smiled
)
;
“
but
perhaps
,
if
there
were
something
else
,
I
might
get
it
up
.
”
“
I’m
sure
there
won’t
be
a
vacancy
for
anything
except
political
economy
,
”
interrupted
Marjory
Leigh
,
impatiently
.
“
I’m
quite
positive
,
from
what
the
secretary
told
me
,
all
the
rest
is
glutted
.
”
“
I
fear
it
is
the
case
,
”
mused
Brown
.
“
There
has
been
a
talk
of
teaching
singing
,
—
in
which
case
,
perhaps
—
”
“
I
don’t
sing
well
enough
,
”
said
Anne
,
haughtily
.
Why
was
she
always
having
her
æstheticism
thrust
in
her
face
?
“
Besides
,
”
added
her
cousin
,
“
it’s
extremely
improbable
.
”
They
fell
to
talking
of
other
things
.
As
Brown
was
leaving
,
Anne
stopped
him
.
“
Tell
me
,
”
she
said
,
“
what
are
the
best
books
to
begin
learning
political
economy
?
”
Brown
smiled
.
“
Why
?
Do
you
want
to
teach
it
?
”
“
Since
it
is
such
an
important
thing
,
”
answered
Anne
,
gravely
,
“
I
think
I
should
like
to
learn
it
.
”
“
It’s
not
amusing
,
Annie
.
”
“
It
can’t
be
duller
than
Minnesingers
—
and
nothing
is
dull
when
one
is
learning
it
.
Can’t
you
tell
me
of
some
books
?
”
Brown
looked
at
her
with
a
puzzled
expression
.
“
I
have
written
a
primer
of
it
myself
,
”
he
said
—
“
I
will
send
it
you
;
and
if
you
get
through
that
,
you
will
find
at
the
end
a
list
of
text‐books
,
some
of
which
I
can
lend
you
to
take
into
—
”
“
Thank
you
,
Dick
.
I
shall
be
much
obliged
to
you
.
”
“
You
shall
have
it
this
evening
.
Goodbye
,
Annie
,
and
felici
studj
,
as
you
Italians
say
.
”
He
laughed
,
and
went
away
.
“
You’ll
find
it
tough
work
,
”
remarked
Marjory
,
shaking
her
short
mane
of
hair
out
before
the
glass
;
“
but
,
of
course
,
a
primer
is
never
very
difficult
.
”
BOOK
V.
CHAPTER
I
.
WHEN
Mrs
Macgregor
had
gone
up‐stairs
to
rest
before
dinner
on
their
arrival
at
Wotton
Hall
,
Hamlin
took
Miss
Brown
round
the
huge
,
deserted‐looking
house
,
which
his
grandfather
had
built
on
returning
from
Jamaica
.
It
was
like
an
Italian
villa
,
with
vaulted
rooms
,
gilded
and
stuccoed
,
marble
floors
,
and
terraced
windows
;
the
furniture
was
all
of
the
Napoleonic
period
;
nothing
could
be
more
dignified
or
sadder
.
When
Hamlin
had
shown
her
the
large
drawing‐rooms
,
the
library
,
the
room
which
had
been
the
play‐room
when
he
was
a
child
,
he
took
Anne
into
the
large
Palladian
hall
,
and
showed
her
the
innumerable
portraits
of
ladies
and
gentlemen
in
armour
,
and
ruffs
,
and
bobwigs
,
and
powder
,
hanging
all
round
—
his
ancestors
ever
since
his
family
had
left
England
in
the
civil
wars
.
Anne
looked
at
them
shyly
.
They
were
mostly
indifferently
painted
and
vapid
—
affected
,
like
all
old
portraits
by
mediocre
painters
;
but
it
seemed
to
her
that
in
most
of
these
gentlemen
,
with
peaked
beards
on
their
Vandyck
lace
,
or
horse‐hair
wigs
,
or
carefully
powdered
hair
tied
back
in
silk
bags
,
she
could
recognise
a
resemblance
to
the
man
by
her
side
—
the
same
delicate
,
handsome
features
,
the
same
fair
,
almost
beardless
complexion
,
the
same
gentle
,
melancholy
,
slightly
ironical
expression
:
and
never
did
the
real
meaning
of
Hamlin’s
marriage
with
her
come
clearer
before
her
mind
than
when
,
in
that
silent
hall
,
surrounded
by
all
those
portraits
of
his
ancestors
,
she
suddenly
saw
herself
and
him
reflected
in
one
of
the
long
dim
mirrors
;
she
,
so
tall
and
strong
,
so
powerful
of
bone
and
muscle
,
with
her
strange
,
half‐southern
,
half‐Jewish
,
and
almost
half‐Ethiopian
beauty
,
by
the
side
of
that
slight
,
fair
,
pale
,
aristocratic
man
,
with
features
sharp
like
those
of
a
high‐bred
race‐horse
,
nervous
and
wistful
and
dreamy
,
as
if
he
were
tired
of
his
family
having
lasted
so
long
.
“
They
all
married
and
intermarried
for
nearly
a
century
,
”
said
Hamlin
,
“
that’s
why
they’re
all
so
like
each
other
.
I
often
wonder
why
it
didn’t
end
in
insanity
—
you
see
it
has
ended
in
a
poet
at
last
.
My
mother
was
the
first
woman
married
by
a
Hamlin
for
eighty
years
who
was
not
at
least
a
second
cousin
,
—
in
those
islands
there
were
very
few
decent
people
,
you
see
.
Don’t
they
all
look
dapper
and
respectable
?
It
appears
they
were
not
.
That
man
in
the
corselet
was
killed
in
a
duel
about
another
man’s
wife
.
That
one
in
the
middle
,
the
boy
in
the
grey
dress
with
the
powdered
hair
,
Sir
Thomas
Hamlin
,
they
used
to
call
the
bad
Sir
Thomas
,
because
he
amused
himself
practising
pistol‐shooting
on
black
people
,
whom
he
had
put
all
round
his
yard
;
he
was
a
very
fine
gentleman
,
they
say
,
and
would
go
out
only
in
the
evening
on
account
of
his
complexion
.
The
one
who
looks
like
a
woman
,
with
the
open
shirt‐collar
and
the
long
hair
,
was
my
great‐uncle
,
Mordaunt
Hamlin
,
who
supposed
himself
to
be
a
poet
,
somewhere
in
the
first
years
of
this
century
;
he
was
an
opium‐eater
,
and
did
some
horribly
disgraceful
things
,
I
don’t
exactly
know
what
,
and
was
poisoned
,
they
say
,
by
some
low
woman
,
because
she
was
tired
of
him
.
My
father
had
his
portrait
removed
;
but
I
used
to
see
it
in
the
lumber‐room
when
I
was
a
child
,
and
thought
him
very
handsome
and
eery
;
and
when
I
came
of
age
,
I
had
it
brought
down
,
because
I
think
he’s
far
better‐looking
and
more
interesting
than
any
of
the
respectable
ones
.
Then
he
was
a
poet
also
,
you
see
,
and
Cosmo
Chough
pretends
I’m
like
him
.
Do
you
think
so
,
Miss
Brown
?
”
“
No
,
”
said
Anne
,
laughing
,
as
she
looked
at
Hamlin
,
at
that
noble
and
delicate
face
,
which
seemed
to
her
the
noblest
and
most
beautiful
in
the
world
;
and
yet
,
when
she
looked
at
Mordaunt
Hamlin
again
,
with
his
morbid
woman’s
face
and
his
effeminate
bare
throat
,
she
could
not
help
feeling
a
certain
disgust
at
the
thought
that
perhaps
—
perhaps
—
Hamlin
was
just
a
little
like
him
.
“
That’s
my
mother
,
”
said
Hamlin
,
pointing
to
a
faded
crayon
of
a
beautiful
,
gentle
,
pathetic‐looking
woman
.
“
That
is
like
you
,
”
cried
Anne
,
delighted
.
“
That
is
very
like
you
—
like
your
expression
.
I
was
wondering
where
you
got
your
expression
from
among
all
your
Jamaica
ancestors
.
”
“
I’m
glad
you
think
so
.
She
was
a
very
beautiful
woman
,
and
very
brave
and
noble
,
and
not
very
happy
,
poor
mamma
.
”
“
Did
you
know
her
?
”
“
Only
till
I
was
about
twelve
;
she
died
young
.
That
is
grandpapa
;
and
that
is
my
uncle
Arnold
,
—
he
died
young
too
—
in
fact
,
drank
himself
to
death
.
Don’t
you
think
he
is
like
Mordaunt
Hamlin
?
That’s
papa
;
”
and
Hamlin
stopped
before
the
full‐length
of
a
handsome
effeminate
man
.
“
You
wouldn’t
think
that
he
was
a
very
violent
man
,
would
you
?
”
he
said
.
“
No
,
”
answered
Anne
,
looking
at
that
weak
,
worn
,
rather
blear
face
,
and
thinking
how
her
father
,
too
,
had
been
a
drunkard
;
but
how
different
had
been
the
drunkenness
of
the
poor
overworked
mechanic
,
so
industrious
and
gentle
and
high‐spirited
when
he
was
sober
,
from
the
sort
of
emasculating
vice
of
Mordaunt
and
Arnold
Hamlin
,
of
Walter
Hamlin’s
bad‐faced
father
!
“
It’s
very
curious
,
”
pursued
Hamlin
,
with
a
sort
of
psychological
interest
in
his
own
family
,
“
how
that
Mordaunt
,
who
,
after
all
,
was
no
ancestor
of
mine
,
tries
everywhere
to
perpetuate
himself
.
There’s
unfortunately
no
portrait
of
my
great‐grandfather
,
or
perhaps
we
might
understand
it
;
but
perhaps
it
came
from
the
mother
.
It’s
curious
I
have
never
felt
any
inclination
to
drink
—
I
mean
,
however
moderately
;
but
I
can’t
take
any
wine
at
all
—
it
makes
me
drunk
at
once
.
”
“
I
never
have
seen
you
take
any
wine
,
by
the
way
,
”
said
Anne
.
“
I
tried
opium
once
;
but
Chough
made
me
give
it
up
.
It’s
sad
to
be
denied
any
sort
of
unreal
pleasures
,
don’t
you
think
?
That’s
my
brother
and
I
when
we
were
boys
.
”
Anne
stopped
to
look
at
the
picture
.
It
was
very
well
painted
,
though
a
trifle
old‐fashioned
.
The
two
boys
were
represented
in
shooting‐jackets
,
with
guns
and
dogs
.
The
shorter
,
slighter
,
and
paler
boy
was
evidently
Walter
Hamlin
;
the
other
was
more
robust
,
boyish
,
and
ordinary‐looking
.
“
Your
brother
died
when
he
was
a
child
,
did
he
not
?
”
“
Oh
no
,
”
answered
Hamlin
,
quickly
.
“
Poor
Arnold
—
was
very
fond
of
shooting
—
I
hated
it
;
but
papa
had
the
picture
painted
on
his
account
;
he
was
the
favourite
at
first
,
being
younger
.
”
It
seemed
to
Anne
that
Hamlin
was
going
to
say
something
different
from
what
he
had
said
.
What
had
become
of
Arnold
Hamlin
?
Mrs
Macgregor’s
allusions
to
him
,
who
had
evidently
been
her
favourite
nephew
,
always
seemed
to
point
to
a
melancholy
end
.
“
It’s
curious
,
”
said
Hamlin
,
after
a
moment
.
“
Arnold
looked
so
jolly
and
strong
when
he
was
a
child
;
and
yet
,
later
,
he
got
such
a
look
of
our
grand‐uncle
Mordaunt
.
”
“
I
think
you
have
your
grand‐uncle
on
the
brain
,
”
said
Anne
,
trying
to
break
through
Hamlin’s
strange
mood
.
They
left
the
hall
,
and
went
to
the
window
of
the
large
drawing‐room
,
and
looked
out
on
the
reddening
beeches
and
the
grass
,
permitted
to
grow
high
and
thick
,
in
the
yellow
sunlight
.
“
I
shall
sell
this
place
most
likely
soon
,
”
said
Hamlin
;
“
I’ve
already
had
some
offers
for
it
.
It’s
too
large
,
and
pompous
,
and
characterless
for
me
.
I
should
like
a
real
old
country‐house
,
two
or
three
centuries
old
,
with
flower‐gardens
and
panelled
rooms
,
—
not
this
plaster
and
stucco
and
romantic
gardening
.
Besides
,
I
hate
this
place
—
have
hated
it
ever
since
I
was
a
child
.
”
Anne
did
not
answer
.
“
I
hate
this
place
,
”
went
on
Hamlin
,
leaning
on
the
window‐sill
by
Anne’s
side
,
“
and
that
is
the
reason
why
I
have
brought
you
here
.
Before
saying
farewell
to
it
for
good
and
all
,
I
wish
to
save
it
from
being
a
mere
hateful
recollection
in
my
life
.
I
wish
to
be
able
to
think
of
it
in
connection
with
you
;
”
and
he
looked
up
at
Anne
,
who
was
leaning
against
the
tall
French
window
.
“
I
don’t
know
,
”
went
on
Hamlin
,
again
looking
out
at
the
vaporous
yellow
sunset
horizon
—
“
I
don’t
know
what
are
destined
to
be
the
relations
between
our
lives
.
You
have
seen
too
little
of
the
world
as
yet
to
be
able
to
know
yourself
and
me
;
and
I
am
more
and
more
decided
to
abide
by
my
original
plan
of
giving
ourselves
time
to
understand
each
other
,
and
to
understand
whether
we
are
made
for
one
another
.
.
.
.
”
He
looked
at
Anne
;
she
had
turned
an
ashy‐white
as
she
listened
;
she
had
thought
that
Hamlin
loved
her
,
and
now
.
.
.
He
noticed
it
,
and
understood
,
but
pretended
not
to
understand
;
he
enjoyed
playing
upon
a
living
soul
,
all
the
more
upon
a
soul
like
this
one
,
slow
to
respond
to
his
touch
,
with
low
and
long‐sustained
vibrations
,
like
those
of
some
deep‐toned
instrument
.
“
Don’t
take
what
I
say
in
bad
part
,
”
he
went
on
,
conscious
to
himself
that
he
was
speaking
the
truth
,
and
at
the
same
time
that
he
was
acting
,
telling
it
at
a
moment
and
in
a
manner
which
made
it
untruthful
;
“
and
don’t
think
that
I
mean
anything
horrid
against
you
or
against
myself
,
when
I
say
that
you
don’t
yet
know
me
,
and
will
not
know
me
,
perhaps
,
for
some
time
.
You
see
me
through
your
own
nature
,
your
own
enthusiasms
,
your
own
aspirations
;
you
think
I
am
strong
where
I
am
weak
,
and
pure
where
I
am
impure
.
”
Anne
shook
her
head
.
“
I
don’t
think
so
.
”
Hamlin
smiled
sadly
.
“
But
I
do
.
It’s
very
sad
to
think
that
one
must
lose
so
much
that
is
worth
most
in
life
,
all
one’s
illusions
,
before
one
can
approach
the
reality
of
even
one’s
best
friends
,
—
that
even
one’s
best
friends
can
be
seen
as
they
really
are
only
when
we
have
got
disillusioned
and
disappointed
,
is
it
not
?
”
Hamlin
had
often
said
things
like
these
in
the
letters
which
he
used
to
write
to
her
,
and
had
hinted
,
much
more
clearly
,
at
weaknesses
and
basenesses
which
she
would
some
day
recognise
in
him
.
It
could
not
occur
to
Anne
,
whose
character
was
so
completely
of
a
piece
,
that
there
was
any
untruthfulness
in
this
mode
of
speaking
,
any
more
than
she
could
believe
that
Hamlin
could
be
correct
in
thus
speaking
of
himself
.
The
sort
of
shimmer
,
as
of
the
two
tints
in
a
shot
stuff
,
of
reality
and
unreality
,
of
genuine
and
affected
feeling
,
of
moods
which
came
spontaneously
and
of
other
moods
,
noticed
,
treasured
up
,
reproduced
in
himself
,
—
which
existed
in
Hamlin
,
would
be
perfectly
unintelligible
to
Anne
.
“
I
daresay
,
”
she
answered
gravely
,
“
that
you
have
faults
,
in
which
,
at
present
,
I
cannot
believe
;
but
those
faults
are
not
the
ones
which
you
imagine
.
When
a
man
knows
himself
to
have
a
fault
,
he
ceases
to
have
it
—
he
cures
it
.
”
A
sensation
of
a
new
experience
passed
through
Hamlin’s
mind
as
Anne
said
this
:
it
seemed
so
strange
,
pathetic
,
grand
,
to
him
—
who
knew
himself
to
be
for
ever
mixing
up
the
unrealities
of
his
art
with
the
realities
of
his
life
,
to
be
continually
experimenting
upon
himself
the
moods
of
his
poetry
—
that
any
one
should
seriously
think
thus
,
should
not
know
that
when
a
man
recognises
in
himself
a
fault
,
he
may
,
so
far
from
eradicating
,
cherish
it
stealthily
.
“
You
have
asked
me
not
to
be
angry
with
you
for
telling
me
that
I
am
inexperienced
and
cannot
yet
know
my
own
mind
,
”
said
Anne
;
“
don’t
be
angry
and
don’t
laugh
at
me
if
I
tell
you
that
I
think
you
don’t
always
know
yours
.
I
have
often
observed
how
imaginative
you
are
about
yourself
,
how
apt
to
fancy
morbid
things
;
I
suppose
it
is
because
poets
are
always
turned
inwards
,
and
because
you
have
not
perhaps
been
very
happy
sometimes
,
and
because
”
—
and
she
looked
at
him
half
laughing
,
half
with
the
tears
in
her
eyes
—
“
you
are
very
good
.
I
daresay
I
don’t
know
you
thoroughly
yet
,
but
I
know
you
—
I
know
I
know
you
—
better
sometimes
than
you
do
;
because
you
fancy
all
sorts
of
horrid
mysterious
flaws
in
your
character
wherever
there
is
a
little
inequality
;
and
I
know
how
good
and
noble
you
are
,
and
how
you
are
always
thinking
that
you
must
be
wicked
.
”
Hamlin
did
not
answer
.
He
was
deeply
touched
,
touched
all
the
more
because
he
knew
how
little
she
guessed
at
the
self‐conscious
unreality
of
so
much
of
him
.
“
You
are
very
comforting
,
”
he
said
sadly
,
then
went
on
more
cheerfully
:
“
well
,
what
I
wanted
to
say
,
when
we
began
to
discuss
which
of
us
knew
the
other
better
,
is
this
,
—
that
whatever
we
may
be
destined
to
be
to
one
another
in
future
—
and
this
I
dare
not
decide
even
in
surmise
—
you
will
always
have
been
to
me
,
in
these
years
that
I
have
known
you
,
in
the
past
and
present
,
an
infinite
source
of
happiness
and
good
;
a
something
which
to
have
possessed
,
as
I
possess
your
friendship
,
will
always
remain
,
even
should
all
the
reality
come
to
an
end
and
only
the
recollection
remain
,
the
most
precious
thing
in
my
life
.
”
He
had
taken
her
hand
,
and
playing
with
her
strong
shapely
fingers
,
so
much
stronger
and
less
delicate
,
though
not
less
shapely
than
his
own
,
looked
with
a
kind
of
solemnity
into
her
face
.
Anne
could
not
answer
,
for
if
she
did
,
she
knew
she
must
cry
;
she
felt
the
tears
,
as
it
were
,
all
through
her
nature
;
she
seemed
to
see
,
she
knew
not
why
,
but
as
a
solemn
certainty
,
that
things
could
never
go
any
further
,
that
Hamlin
was
prophesying
the
inevitable
future
:
and
yet
,
in
the
midst
of
this
quite
inexplicable
,
unreasonable
sense
of
loss
and
resignation
,
there
was
a
deep
happiness
which
she
had
never
before
felt
,
the
happiness
of
the
present
;
a
something
new
to
Anne
,
though
all
other
lovers
have
felt
the
happiness
of
possession
of
one
another
,
even
at
the
moment
of
loss
.
“
It
is
getting
chilly
,
”
said
Hamlin
,
and
shut
the
window
.
“
You
look
very
pale
,
Miss
Brown
;
had
you
not
better
put
on
some
warmer
dress
this
evening
?
”
His
voice
seemed
like
the
curtain
dropping
after
a
scene
,
or
the
chord
at
the
end
of
a
duet
.
It
was
a
return
to
reality
and
prose
.
“
Perhaps
I
had
better
,
and
I
ought
to
go
and
see
after
your
aunt
;
good‐bye
for
the
present
.
”
Hamlin
strolled
out
into
the
terrace
,
and
lit
a
cigarette
;
the
past
and
present
,
his
real
and
unreal
self
,
Anne
,
his
brother
and
father
,
his
great‐uncle
Mordaunt
—
all
went
cloudily
through
his
brain
.
He
was
very
happy
.
Love
to
him
was
not
what
it
was
to
other
men
,
not
what
he
had
tried
it
himself
in
former
years
.
It
was
romance
,
but
romance
not
of
ladders
and
hairbreadth
escapes
,
but
of
psychical
conditions
,
of
spiritual
sensations
.
He
had
written
fleshly
poetry
and
passionate
poetry
,
but
no
one
could
be
less
fleshly
or
less
passionate
than
Hamlin
:
the
‘Vita
Nuova’
—
if
it
could
be
made
modern
,
and
the
parts
altered
and
reversed
—
unreal
reality
of
love
,
had
been
his
ideal
,
and
he
had
got
it
.
They
had
many
conversations
like
this
one
.
Hamlin
never
so
much
as
kissed
Anne’s
hand
,
never
told
her
that
he
loved
her
,
spoke
merely
of
himself
,
of
her
,
of
the
future
and
the
past
,
of
what
she
would
one
day
know
,
of
what
he
would
one
day
feel
;
and
Anne
listened
seriously
,
trying
to
cure
him
of
his
despondency
and
morbidness
,
trying
to
persuade
him
of
his
own
worth
and
of
her
clear‐sightedness
,
while
never
a
suspicion
crossed
her
simple
stern
mind
that
all
this
earnest
talk
,
which
was
so
tragic
and
still
so
delightful
,
was
the
thing
which
she
scornfully
connected
with
whispers
and
kisses
and
nonsense
,
—
in
one
word
,
love‐making
.
CHAPTER
II
.
THEY
remained
about
a
fortnight
completely
solitary
in
the
large
house
.
Hamlin
was
finishing
a
poem
and
correcting
the
proofs
of
his
next
volume
.
Anne
was
continuing
her
usual
literary
studies
,
but
now
with
the
addition
of
some
books
and
pamphlets
on
political
economy
,
which
had
been
incredulously
lent
her
by
Richard
Brown
.
The
two
young
people
had
never
seen
so
much
of
one
another
,
and
they
were
,
Hamlin
in
his
dreamy
manner
,
Anne
in
her
serious
,
practical
way
,
very
happy
.
Mrs
Macgregor
went
on
reading
her
old‐fashioned
freethinking
books
,
and
giving
out
cynical
remarks
,
which
her
amiable
and
utterly
gullible
character
deprived
of
all
weight
.
She
was
the
elder
and
considerably
older
sister
of
Hamlin’s
mother
,
and
had
lived
in
the
house
for
many
years
as
a
widow
.
She
had
been
twice
married
,
each
time
for
love
,
and
each
time
to
men
who
,
if
one
might
trust
her
nephew
,
had
been
immediately
reduced
by
her
into
the
most
devoted
and
timid
slaves
;
yet
she
always
spoke
of
marriage
as
if
every
misfortune
of
her
existence
was
due
to
it
.
Imbued
with
the
pseudo‐scientific
and
somewhat
anti‐social
philosophy
of
early
deism
(
though
herself
a
rigid
stickler
for
decorum
)
,
Mrs
Macgregor
had
a
way
of
talking
of
love
and
marriage
which
for
some
time
had
made
poor
Anne
profoundly
miserable
:
men
and
women
,
averred
the
old
lady
,
were
,
whatever
they
might
pretend
to
the
contrary
,
entirely
at
the
mercy
of
their
animal
passions
,
—
to
suppose
that
any
one
successfully
resisted
them
was
sheer
folly
;
marry
people
must
,
but
marriage
was
the
most
unfortunate
of
all
necessities
,
the
beginning
of
all
unhappiness
,
the
end
of
all
independence
,
self‐respect
,
and
pleasure
in
life
;
it
was
the
long
waking
up
from
a
disgraceful
delusion
;
yet
this
disgraceful
delusion
,
this
drunken
condition
called
love
,
was
(
always
according
to
Mrs
Macgregor
)
the
one
beautiful
and
poetical
thing
in
the
world
.
“
I
don’t
believe
that
all
people
are
like
that
,
Aunt
Claudia
,
”
Anne
would
often
exclaim
indignantly
.
“
I
don’t
believe
that
all
people
marry
from
unworthy
passion
,
just
to
wake
up
and
find
its
unworthiness
.
I
am
sure
that
if
love
were
such
a
vile
thing
,
and
marriage
such
a
mistake
,
every
man
or
woman
with
any
self‐respect
and
self‐restraint
would
refuse
both
.
”
“
Oh
,
my
dear
child
,
”
Mrs
Macgregor
would
answer
with
a
smile
,
“
wait
till
you
are
a
little
older
and
see
what
a
disgusting
thing
life
is
.
”
“
If
it
is
,
”
answered
Anne
,
feeling
quite
nauseated
and
terrified
,
and
at
the
same
time
resolute
in
herself
—
“
if
it
is
,
Aunt
Claudia
,
it
is
because
men
and
women
are
mostly
such
wretched
,
weak
,
silly
,
base
,
puling
creatures
.
”
Then
,
when
she
saw
Hamlin
,
and
thought
of
the
noble
way
in
which
he
had
acted
towards
her
,
of
the
calm
and
clear
love
and
gratitude
which
she
felt
towards
him
,
—
when
she
thought
of
the
things
which
they
talked
about
together
,
of
the
desire
to
become
worthier
with
which
his
love
had
inspired
her
,
of
the
greater
trust
in
his
own
worthiness
which
she
hoped
her
love
was
instilling
into
him
,
—
nay
,
when
she
looked
at
that
thoughtful
,
delicate
,
almost
diaphanous
face
of
his
,
Anne’s
anger
towards
the
old
lady
would
turn
into
mere
pity
;
she
would
merely
,
in
her
own
certainty
of
worthiness
,
smile
at
what
she
now
considered
as
the
mere
empty
talk
of
a
disgusting
school
of
thought
,
or
,
at
best
,
as
the
lamentable
generalisations
from
a
horribly
exceptional
family
,
such
as
she
understood
,
vaguely
,
that
of
Hamlin’s
father
to
have
been
.
And
,
for
the
rest
,
Anne
believed
that
though
people
were
very
ridiculous
,
and
affected
,
and
mean
in
little
matters
(
she
was
thinking
of
the
Spencers
,
and
the
Saunders
,
and
so
many
other
of
her
æsthetic
friends
)
,
and
although
they
might
also
,
like
Cosmo
Chough
,
make
the
mistake
of
thinking
indecent
things
interesting
and
dramatic
,
the
vast
majority
of
mankind
and
womankind
was
really
very
pure
,
and
generous
,
and
loving
at
bottom
.
So
,
after
a
time
,
she
listened
to
Mrs
Macgregor’s
remarks
with
only
a
little
habitual
and
instinctive
annoyance
,
but
without
any
kind
of
serious
belief
in
them
.
And
when
Aunt
Claudia
would
sometimes
allude
to
the
bad
lives
which
had
been
led
in
this
particular
house
—
to
the
vices
(
taking
them
quite
as
ordinary
matters
)
of
Hamlin’s
grandfather
and
father
and
uncles
,
of
the
neglect
and
violence
which
her
sister
,
Hamlin’s
mother
,
had
suffered
from
,
hinting
that
,
if
one
only
knew
,
the
self‐same
things
were
happening
in
every
other
family
on
earth
,
—
whenever
there
came
any
such
allusions
,
Anne
would
carefully
,
as
it
were
,
close
up
these
loopholes
into
a
past
,
in
which
she
scarcely
believed
and
from
which
she
shrank
:
the
world
seemed
to
her
as
good
,
and
healthy
,
and
strong
,
and
easy
to
understand
as
herself
.
But
while
she
did
thus
,
Anne
was
so
gentle
and
sympathising
to
Mrs
Macgregor
,
that
the
old
lady
was
never
hurt
by
her
contradictions
;
indeed
she
would
sometimes
say
that
,
were
she
not
persuaded
that
no
law
of
nature
can
have
any
real
exceptions
,
she
would
almost
believe
that
Anne
was
quite
different
from
any
other
woman
that
ever
was
.
It
seemed
somehow
,
here
all
alone
in
this
ancestral
home
of
Hamlin’s
,
as
if
the
fate
which
Hamlin
had
refused
to
forestall
was
working
itself
happily
out
;
and
as
if
,
tacitly
,
the
poet‐painter
and
the
girl
whom
he
had
educated
were
becoming
affianced
to
each
other
.
None
of
the
outward
ceremony
was
broken
through
;
he
was
always
Mr
Hamlin
,
and
she
Miss
Brown
,
and
there
was
never
an
allusion
permitted
to
any
more
intimate
relations
.
But
it
seemed
perfectly
natural
that
he
and
she
should
go
walks
together
;
that
Aunt
Claudia
should
leave
them
alone
at
breakfast
and
luncheon
;
and
that
,
when
the
old
lady
had
retired
to
her
room
,
they
should
remain
,
with
brotherly
and
sisterly
ease
,
though
not
brotherly
and
sisterly
free‐and‐easiness
,
talking
together
of
an
evening
.
And
as
they
talked
,
their
plans
seemed
constantly
to
merge
;
that
they
should
be
separated
never
occurred
to
either
(
except
when
Hamlin
was
in
one
of
his
tragic
moods
)
,
although
not
a
word
passed
to
settle
their
future
together
.
The
long
courtship
,
the
long
enjoyment
of
a
ceremonious
and
unfettered
love
,
was
what
Hamlin
had
wished
for
,
and
what
he
had
;
to
a
