THE
TWO
DESTINIES
A
ROMANCE
by
Wilkie
Collins
In
two
volumes
London
:
Chatto
+
Windus
,
Piccadilly
1876
All
rights
reserved
TO
CHARLES
READE
You
read
this
story
while
it
was
in
course
of
periodical
publication
,
and
you
found
in
it
a
certain
novelty
of
design
and
treatment
which
pleased
and
interested
you
.
Now
that
my
work
is
completed
,
let
me
ask
you
to
accept
the
dedication
of
The
Two
Destinies
.
I
can
acknowledge
in
no
fitter
way
the
pleasure
that
I
fell
in
having
satisfied
my
old
friend
and
brother
in
the
Art
.
W.C.
London
:
August
1876.
The
Prelude
:
[
in
two
narratives
.
]
.
(
1
)
THE
GUEST
WRITES
AND
TELLS
THE
STORY
OF
THE
DINNER
PARTY
.
MANY
years
have
passed
since
my
wife
and
I
left
the
United
States
to
pay
our
first
visit
to
England
.
We
were
provided
with
letters
of
introduction
,
as
a
matter
of
course
.
Among
them
there
was
a
letter
which
had
been
written
for
us
by
my
wife’s
brother
.
It
presented
us
to
an
English
gentleman
who
held
a
high
rank
on
the
list
of
his
old
and
valued
friends
.
“
You
will
become
acquainted
with
Mr.
George
Germaine
,
”
my
brother-in-law
said
,
when
we
took
leave
of
him
,
“
at
a
very
interesting
period
of
his
life
.
My
last
news
of
him
tells
me
that
he
is
just
married
.
I
know
nothing
of
the
lady
,
or
of
the
circumstances
under
which
my
friend
first
met
with
her
.
But
of
this
I
am
certain
:
married
or
single
,
George
Germaine
will
give
you
and
your
wife
a
hearty
welcome
to
England
,
for
my
sake
.
”
The
day
after
our
arrival
in
London
,
we
left
our
letter
of
introduction
at
the
house
of
Mr.
Germaine
.
The
next
morning
we
went
to
see
a
favorite
object
of
American
interest
,
in
the
metropolis
of
England
—
the
Tower
of
London
.
The
citizens
of
the
United
States
find
this
relic
of
the
good
old
times
of
great
use
in
raising
their
national
estimate
of
the
value
of
republican
institutions
.
On
getting
back
to
the
hotel
,
the
cards
of
Mr.
and
Mrs.
Germaine
told
us
that
they
had
already
returned
our
visit
.
The
same
evening
we
received
an
invitation
to
dine
with
the
newly
married
couple
.
It
was
inclosed
in
a
little
note
from
Mrs.
Germaine
to
my
wife
,
warning
us
that
we
were
not
to
expect
to
meet
a
large
party
.
“
It
is
the
first
dinner
we
give
,
on
our
return
from
our
wedding
tour
”
(
the
lady
wrote
)
;
“
and
you
will
only
be
introduced
to
a
few
of
my
husband’s
old
friends
.
”
In
America
,
and
(
as
I
hear
)
on
the
continent
of
Europe
also
,
when
your
host
invites
you
to
dine
at
a
given
hour
,
you
pay
him
the
compliment
of
arriving
punctually
at
his
house
.
In
England
alone
,
the
incomprehensible
and
discourteous
custom
prevails
of
keeping
the
host
and
the
dinner
waiting
for
half
an
hour
or
more
—
without
any
assignable
reason
and
without
any
better
excuse
than
the
purely
formal
apology
that
is
implied
in
the
words
,
“
Sorry
to
be
late
.
”
Arriving
at
the
appointed
time
at
the
house
of
Mr.
and
Mrs.
Germaine
,
we
had
every
reason
to
congratulate
ourselves
on
the
ignorant
punctuality
which
had
brought
us
into
the
drawing-room
half
an
hour
in
advance
of
the
other
guests
.
In
the
first
place
,
there
was
so
much
heartiness
,
and
so
little
ceremony
,
in
the
welcome
accorded
to
us
,
that
we
almost
fancied
ourselves
back
in
our
own
country
.
In
the
second
place
,
both
husband
and
wife
interested
us
the
moment
we
set
eyes
on
them
.
The
lady
,
especially
,
although
she
was
not
,
strictly
speaking
,
a
beautiful
woman
,
quite
fascinated
us
.
There
was
an
artless
charm
in
her
face
and
manner
,
a
simple
grace
in
all
her
movements
,
a
low
,
delicious
melody
in
her
voice
,
which
we
Americans
felt
to
be
simply
irresistible
.
And
then
,
it
was
so
plain
(
and
so
pleasant
)
to
see
that
here
at
least
was
a
happy
marriage
!
Here
were
two
people
who
had
all
their
dearest
hopes
,
wishes
,
and
sympathies
in
common
—
who
looked
,
if
I
may
risk
the
expression
,
born
to
be
man
and
wife
.
By
the
time
when
the
fashionable
delay
of
the
half
hour
had
expired
,
we
were
talking
together
as
familiarly
and
as
confidentially
as
if
we
had
been
all
four
of
us
old
friends
.
Eight
o’clock
struck
,
and
the
first
of
the
English
guests
appeared
.
Having
forgotten
this
gentleman’s
name
,
I
must
beg
leave
to
distinguish
him
by
means
of
a
letter
of
the
alphabet
.
Let
me
call
him
Mr.
A
.
When
he
entered
the
room
alone
,
our
host
and
hostess
both
started
,
and
both
looked
surprised
.
Apparently
they
expected
him
to
be
accompanied
by
some
other
person
.
Mr.
Germaine
put
a
curious
question
to
his
friend
.
“
Where
is
your
wife
?
”
he
asked
.
Mr.
A
answered
for
the
absent
lady
by
a
neat
little
apology
,
expressed
in
these
words
:
“
She
has
got
a
bad
cold
.
She
is
very
sorry
.
She
begs
me
to
make
her
excuses
.
”
He
had
just
time
to
deliver
his
message
,
before
another
unaccompanied
gentleman
appeared
.
Reverting
to
the
letters
of
the
alphabet
,
let
me
call
him
Mr.
B
.
Once
more
,
I
noticed
that
our
host
and
hostess
started
when
they
saw
him
enter
the
room
alone
.
And
,
rather
to
my
surprise
,
I
heard
Mr.
Germaine
put
his
curious
question
again
to
the
new
guest
:
“
Where
is
your
wife
?
”
The
answer
—
with
slight
variations
—
was
Mr.
A’s
neat
little
apology
,
repeated
by
Mr.
B
.
“
I
am
very
sorry
.
Mrs.
B
has
got
a
bad
headache
.
She
is
subject
to
bad
headaches
.
She
begs
me
to
make
her
excuses
.
”
Mr.
and
Mrs.
Germaine
glanced
at
one
another
.
The
husband’s
face
plainly
expressed
the
suspicion
which
this
second
apology
had
roused
in
his
mind
.
The
wife
was
steady
and
calm
.
An
interval
passed
—
a
silent
interval
.
Mr.
A
and
Mr.
B
retired
together
guiltily
into
a
corner
.
My
wife
and
I
looked
at
the
pictures
.
Mrs.
Germaine
was
the
first
to
relieve
us
from
our
own
intolerable
silence
.
Two
more
guests
,
it
appeared
,
were
still
wanting
to
complete
the
party
.
“
Shall
we
have
dinner
at
once
,
George
?
”
she
said
to
her
husband
.
“
Or
shall
we
wait
for
Mr.
and
Mrs.
C
?
”
“
We
will
wait
five
minutes
,
”
he
answered
,
shortly
—
with
his
eye
on
Mr.
A
and
Mr.
B
,
guiltily
secluded
in
their
corner
.
The
drawing-room
door
opened
.
We
all
knew
that
a
third
married
lady
was
expected
;
we
all
looked
toward
the
door
in
unutterable
anticipation
.
Our
unexpressed
hopes
rested
silently
on
the
possible
appearance
of
Mrs.
C
.
Would
that
admirable
,
but
unknown
,
woman
,
at
once
charm
and
relieve
us
by
her
presence
?
I
shudder
as
I
write
it
.
Mr.
C
walked
into
the
room
—
and
walked
in
,
alone
.
Mr.
Germaine
suddenly
varied
his
formal
inquiry
in
receiving
the
new
guest
.
“
Is
your
wife
ill
?
”
he
asked
.
Mr.
C
was
an
elderly
man
;
Mr.
C
had
lived
(
judging
by
appearances
)
in
the
days
when
the
old-fashioned
laws
of
politeness
were
still
in
force
.
He
discovered
his
two
married
brethren
in
their
corner
,
unaccompanied
by
their
wives
;
and
he
delivered
his
apology
for
his
wife
with
the
air
of
a
man
who
felt
unaffectedly
ashamed
of
it
:
“
Mrs.
C
is
so
sorry
.
She
has
got
such
a
bad
cold
.
She
does
so
regret
not
being
able
to
accompany
me
.
”
At
this
third
apology
,
Mr.
Germaine’s
indignation
forced
its
way
outward
into
expression
in
words
.
“
Two
bad
colds
and
one
bad
headache
,
”
he
said
,
with
ironical
politeness
.
“
I
don’t
know
how
your
wives
agree
,
gentlemen
,
when
they
are
well
.
But
when
they
are
ill
,
their
unanimity
is
wonderful
!
”
The
dinner
was
announced
as
that
sharp
saying
passed
his
lips
.
I
had
the
honor
of
taking
Mrs.
Germaine
to
the
dining-room
.
Her
sense
of
the
implied
insult
offered
to
her
by
the
wives
of
her
husband’s
friends
only
showed
itself
in
a
trembling
,
a
very
slight
trembling
,
of
the
hand
that
rested
on
my
arm
.
My
interest
in
her
increased
tenfold
.
Only
a
woman
who
had
been
accustomed
to
suffer
,
who
had
been
broken
and
disciplined
to
self-restraint
,
could
have
endured
the
moral
martyrdom
inflicted
on
her
as
this
woman
endured
it
,
from
the
beginning
of
the
evening
to
the
end
.
Am
I
using
the
language
of
exaggeration
when
I
write
of
my
hostess
in
these
terms
?
Look
at
the
circumstances
as
they
struck
two
strangers
like
my
wife
and
myself
.
Here
was
the
first
dinner
party
which
Mr.
and
Mrs.
Germaine
had
given
since
their
marriage
.
Three
of
Mr.
Germaine’s
friends
,
all
married
men
,
had
been
invited
with
their
wives
to
meet
Mr.
Germaine’s
wife
,
and
had
(
evidently
)
accepted
the
invitation
without
reserve
.
What
discoveries
had
taken
place
between
the
giving
of
the
invitation
and
the
giving
of
the
dinner
it
was
impossible
to
say
.
The
one
thing
plainly
discernible
was
,
that
in
the
interval
the
three
wives
had
agreed
in
the
resolution
to
leave
their
husbands
to
represent
them
at
Mrs.
Germaine’s
table
;
and
,
more
amazing
still
,
the
husbands
had
so
far
approved
of
the
grossly
discourteous
conduct
of
the
wives
as
to
consent
to
make
the
most
insultingly
trivial
excuses
for
their
absence
.
Could
any
crueler
slur
than
this
have
been
cast
on
a
woman
at
the
outs
et
of
her
married
life
,
before
the
face
of
her
husband
,
and
in
the
presence
of
two
strangers
from
another
country
?
Is
“
martyrdom
”
too
big
a
word
to
use
in
describing
what
a
sensitive
person
must
have
suffered
,
subjected
to
such
treatment
as
this
?
Well
,
I
think
not
.
We
took
our
places
at
the
dinner-table
.
Don’t
ask
me
to
describe
that
most
miserable
of
mortal
meetings
,
that
weariest
and
dreariest
of
human
festivals
!
It
is
quite
bad
enough
to
remember
that
evening
—
it
is
indeed
.
My
wife
and
I
did
our
best
to
keep
the
conversation
moving
as
easily
and
as
harmlessly
as
might
be
.
I
may
say
that
we
really
worked
hard
.
Nevertheless
,
our
success
was
not
very
encouraging
.
Try
as
we
might
to
overlook
them
,
there
were
the
three
empty
places
of
the
three
absent
women
,
speaking
in
their
own
dismal
language
for
themselves
.
Try
as
we
might
to
resist
it
,
we
all
felt
the
one
sad
conclusion
which
those
empty
places
persisted
in
forcing
on
our
minds
.
It
was
surely
too
plain
that
some
terrible
report
,
affecting
the
character
of
the
unhappy
woman
at
the
head
of
the
table
,
had
unexpectedly
come
to
light
,
and
had
at
one
blow
destroyed
her
position
in
the
estimation
of
her
husband’s
friends
.
In
the
face
of
the
excuses
in
the
drawing-room
,
in
the
face
of
the
empty
places
at
the
dinner-table
,
what
could
the
friendliest
guests
do
,
to
any
good
purpose
,
to
help
the
husband
and
wife
in
their
sore
and
sudden
need
?
They
could
say
good-night
at
the
earliest
possible
opportunity
,
and
mercifully
leave
the
married
pair
to
themselves
.
Let
it
at
least
be
recorded
to
the
credit
of
the
three
gentlemen
,
designated
in
these
pages
as
A
,
B
,
and
C
,
that
they
were
sufficiently
ashamed
of
themselves
and
their
wives
to
be
the
first
members
of
the
dinner
party
who
left
the
house
.
In
a
few
minutes
more
we
rose
to
follow
their
example
.
Mrs.
Germaine
earnestly
requested
that
we
would
delay
our
departure
.
“
Wait
a
few
minutes
,
”
she
whispered
,
with
a
glance
at
her
husband
.
“
I
have
something
to
say
to
you
before
you
go
.
”
She
left
us
,
and
,
taking
Mr.
Germaine
by
the
arm
,
led
him
away
to
the
opposite
side
of
the
room
.
The
two
held
a
little
colloquy
together
in
low
voices
.
The
husband
closed
the
consultation
by
lifting
the
wife’s
hand
to
his
lips
.
“
Do
as
you
please
,
my
love
,
”
he
said
to
her
.
“
I
leave
it
entirely
to
you
.
”
He
sat
down
sorrowfully
,
lost
in
his
thoughts
.
Mrs.
Germaine
unlocked
a
cabinet
at
the
further
end
of
the
room
,
and
returned
to
us
,
alone
,
carrying
a
small
portfolio
in
her
hand
.
“
No
words
of
mine
can
tell
you
how
gratefully
I
feel
your
kindness
,
”
she
said
,
with
perfect
simplicity
,
and
with
perfect
dignity
at
the
same
time
.
“
Under
very
trying
circumstances
,
you
have
treated
me
with
the
tenderness
and
the
sympathy
which
you
might
have
shown
to
an
old
friend
.
The
one
return
I
can
make
for
all
that
I
owe
to
you
is
to
admit
you
to
my
fullest
confidence
,
and
to
leave
you
to
judge
for
yourselves
whether
I
deserve
the
treatment
which
I
have
received
to-night
.
”
Her
eyes
filled
with
tears
.
She
paused
to
control
herself
.
We
both
begged
her
to
say
no
more
.
Her
husband
,
joining
us
,
added
his
entreaties
to
ours
.
She
thanked
us
,
but
she
persisted
.
Like
most
sensitively
organized
persons
,
she
could
be
resolute
when
she
believed
that
the
occasion
called
for
it
.
“
I
have
a
few
words
more
to
say
,
”
she
resumed
,
addressing
my
wife
.
“
You
are
the
only
married
woman
who
has
come
to
our
little
dinner
party
.
The
marked
absence
of
the
other
wives
explains
itself
.
It
is
not
for
me
to
say
whether
they
are
right
or
wrong
in
refusing
to
sit
at
our
table
.
My
dear
husband
—
who
knows
my
whole
life
as
well
as
I
know
it
myself
—
expressed
the
wish
that
we
should
invite
these
ladies
.
He
wrongly
supposed
that
his
estimate
of
me
would
be
the
estimate
accepted
by
his
friends
;
and
neither
he
nor
I
anticipated
that
the
misfortunes
of
my
past
life
would
be
revealed
by
some
person
acquainted
with
them
,
whose
treachery
we
have
yet
to
discover
.
The
least
I
can
do
,
by
way
of
acknowledging
your
kindness
,
is
to
place
you
in
the
same
position
toward
me
which
the
other
ladies
now
occupy
.
The
circumstances
under
which
I
have
become
the
wife
of
Mr.
Germaine
are
,
in
some
respects
,
very
remarkable
.
They
are
related
,
without
suppression
or
reserve
,
in
a
little
narrative
which
my
husband
wrote
,
at
the
time
of
our
marriage
,
for
the
satisfaction
of
one
of
his
absent
relatives
,
whose
good
opinion
he
was
unwilling
to
forfeit
.
The
manuscript
is
in
this
portfolio
.
After
what
has
happened
,
I
ask
you
both
to
read
it
,
as
a
personal
favor
to
me
.
It
is
for
you
to
decide
,
when
you
know
all
,
whether
I
am
a
fit
person
for
an
honest
woman
to
associate
with
or
not
.
”
She
held
out
her
hand
,
with
a
sweet
,
sad
smile
,
and
bid
us
good
night
.
My
wife
,
in
her
impulsive
way
,
forgot
the
formalities
proper
to
the
occasion
,
and
kissed
her
at
parting
.
At
that
one
little
act
of
sisterly
sympathy
,
the
fortitude
which
the
poor
creature
had
preserved
all
through
the
evening
gave
way
in
an
instant
.
She
burst
into
tears
.
I
felt
as
fond
of
her
and
as
sorry
for
her
as
my
wife
.
But
(
unfortunately
)
I
could
not
take
my
wife’s
privilege
of
kissing
her
.
On
our
way
downstairs
,
I
found
the
opportunity
of
saying
a
cheering
word
to
her
husband
as
he
accompanied
us
to
the
door
.
“
Before
I
open
this
,
”
I
remarked
,
pointing
to
the
portfolio
under
my
arm
,
“
my
mind
is
made
up
,
sir
,
about
one
thing
.
If
I
wasn’t
married
already
,
I
tell
you
this
—
I
should
envy
you
your
wife
.
”
He
pointed
to
the
portfolio
in
his
turn
.
“
Read
what
I
have
written
there
,
”
he
said
;
“
and
you
will
understand
what
those
false
friends
of
mine
have
made
me
suffer
to-night
.
”
The
next
morning
my
wife
and
I
opened
the
portfolio
,
and
read
the
strange
story
of
George
Germaine’s
marriage
.
(
2
)
GEORGE
GERMAINE
WRITES
THE
HISTORY
OF
HIS
FIRST
LOVE
.
LOOK
back
,
my
memory
,
through
the
dim
labyrinth
of
the
past
,
through
the
mingling
joys
and
sorrows
of
twenty
years
.
Rise
again
,
my
boyhood’s
days
,
by
the
winding
green
shores
of
the
little
lake
.
Come
to
me
once
more
,
my
child-love
,
in
the
innocent
beauty
of
your
first
ten
years
of
life
.
Let
us
live
again
,
my
angel
,
as
we
lived
in
our
first
paradise
,
before
sin
and
sorrow
lifted
their
flaming
swords
and
drove
us
out
into
the
world
.
The
month
was
March
.
The
last
wild
fowl
of
the
season
were
floating
on
the
waters
of
the
lake
which
,
in
our
Suffolk
tongue
,
we
called
Greenwater
Broad
.
Wind
where
it
might
,
the
grassy
banks
and
the
overhanging
trees
tinged
the
lake
with
the
soft
green
reflections
from
which
it
took
its
name
.
In
a
creek
at
the
south
end
,
the
boats
were
kept
—
my
own
pretty
sailing
boat
having
a
tiny
natural
harbor
all
to
itself
.
In
a
creek
at
the
north
end
stood
the
great
trap
(
called
a
“
decoy
”
)
,
used
for
snaring
the
wild
fowl
which
flocked
every
winter
,
by
thousands
and
thousands
,
to
Greenwater
Broad
.
My
little
Mary
and
I
went
out
together
,
hand
in
hand
,
to
see
the
last
birds
of
the
season
lured
into
the
decoy
.
The
outer
part
of
the
strange
bird-trap
rose
from
the
waters
of
the
lake
in
a
series
of
circular
arches
,
formed
of
elastic
branches
bent
to
the
needed
shape
,
and
covered
with
folds
of
fine
network
,
making
the
roof
.
Little
by
little
diminishing
in
size
,
the
arches
and
their
net-work
followed
the
secret
windings
of
the
creek
inland
to
its
end
.
Built
back
round
the
arches
,
on
their
landward
side
,
ran
a
wooden
paling
,
high
enough
to
hide
a
man
kneeling
behind
it
from
the
view
of
the
birds
on
the
lake
.
At
certain
intervals
a
hole
was
broken
in
the
paling
just
large
enough
to
allow
of
the
passage
through
it
of
a
dog
of
the
terrier
or
the
spaniel
breed
.
And
there
began
and
ended
the
simple
yet
sufficient
mechanism
of
the
decoy
.
In
those
days
I
was
thirteen
,
and
Mary
was
ten
years
old
.
Walking
on
our
way
to
the
lake
we
had
Mary’s
father
with
us
for
guide
and
companion
.
The
good
man
served
as
bailiff
on
my
father’s
estate
.
He
was
,
besides
,
a
skilled
master
in
the
art
of
decoying
ducks
.
The
dog
that
helped
him
(
we
used
no
tame
ducks
as
decoys
in
Suffolk
)
was
a
little
black
terrier
;
a
skilled
master
also
,
in
his
way
;
a
creature
who
possessed
,
in
equal
proportions
,
the
enviable
advantages
of
perfect
good-humor
and
perfect
common
sense
.
The
dog
followed
the
bailiff
,
and
we
followed
the
dog
.
Arrived
at
the
paling
which
surrounded
the
decoy
,
the
dog
sat
down
to
wait
until
he
was
wanted
.
The
bailiff
and
the
children
crouched
behind
the
paling
,
and
peeped
through
the
outermost
dog-hole
,
which
commanded
a
full
view
of
the
lake
.
It
was
a
day
without
wind
;
not
a
ripple
stirred
the
surface
of
the
water
;
the
soft
gray
clouds
filled
all
the
sky
,
and
hid
the
sun
from
view
.
We
peeped
through
the
hole
in
the
paling
.
There
were
the
wild
ducks
—
collected
within
easy
reach
of
the
decoy
—
placidly
dressing
their
feathers
on
the
placid
surface
of
the
lake
.
The
bailiff
looked
at
the
dog
,
and
made
a
sign
.
The
dog
looked
at
the
bailiff
;
and
,
stepping
forward
quietly
,
passed
through
the
hole
,
so
as
to
show
himself
on
the
narrow
strip
of
ground
shelving
down
from
the
outer
side
of
the
paling
to
the
lake
.
First
one
duck
,
then
another
,
then
half
a
dozen
together
,
discovered
the
dog
.
A
new
object
showing
itself
on
the
solitary
scene
instantly
became
an
object
of
all-devouring
curiosity
to
the
ducks
.
The
outermost
of
them
began
to
swim
slowly
toward
the
strange
four-footed
creature
,
planted
motionless
on
the
bank
.
By
twos
and
threes
,
the
main
body
of
the
waterfowl
gradually
followed
the
advanced
guard
.
Swimming
nearer
and
nearer
to
the
dog
,
the
wary
ducks
suddenly
came
to
a
halt
,
and
,
poised
on
the
water
,
viewed
from
a
safe
distance
the
phenomenon
on
the
land
.
The
bailiff
,
kneeling
behind
the
paling
,
whispered
,
“
Trim
!
”
Hearing
his
name
,
the
terrier
turned
about
,
and
retiring
through
the
hole
,
became
lost
to
the
view
of
the
ducks
.
Motionless
on
the
water
,
the
wild
fowl
wondered
and
waited
.
In
a
minute
more
,
the
dog
had
trotted
round
,
and
had
shown
himself
through
the
next
hole
in
the
paling
,
pierced
further
inward
where
the
lake
ran
up
into
the
outermost
of
the
windings
of
the
creek
.
The
second
appearance
of
the
terrier
instantly
produced
a
second
fit
of
curiosity
among
the
ducks
.
With
one
accord
,
they
swam
forward
again
,
to
get
another
and
a
nearer
view
of
the
dog
;
then
,
judging
their
safe
distance
once
more
,
they
stopped
for
the
second
time
,
under
the
outermost
arch
of
the
decoy
.
Again
the
dog
vanished
,
and
the
puzzled
ducks
waited
.
An
interval
passed
,
and
the
third
appearance
of
Trim
took
place
,
through
a
third
hole
in
the
paling
,
pierced
further
inland
up
the
creek
.
For
the
third
time
irresistible
curiosity
urged
the
ducks
to
advance
further
and
further
inward
,
under
the
fatal
arches
of
the
decoy
.
A
fourth
and
a
fifth
time
the
game
went
on
,
until
the
dog
had
lured
the
water-fowl
from
point
to
point
into
the
inner
recesses
of
the
decoy
.
There
a
last
appearance
of
Trim
took
place
.
A
last
advance
,
a
last
cautious
pause
,
was
made
by
the
ducks
.
The
bailiff
touched
the
strings
,
the
weighed
net-work
fell
vertically
into
the
water
,
and
closed
the
decoy
.
There
,
by
dozens
and
dozens
,
were
the
ducks
,
caught
by
means
of
their
own
curiosity
—
with
nothing
but
a
little
dog
for
a
bait
!
In
a
few
hours
afterward
they
were
all
dead
ducks
on
their
way
to
the
London
market
.
As
the
last
act
in
the
curious
comedy
of
the
decoy
came
to
its
end
,
little
Mary
laid
her
hand
on
my
shoulder
,
and
,
raising
herself
on
tiptoe
,
whispered
in
my
ear
:
“
George
,
come
home
with
me
.
I
have
got
something
to
show
you
that
is
better
worth
seeing
than
the
ducks
.
”
“
What
is
it
?
”
“
It’s
a
surprise
.
I
won’t
tell
you
.
”
“
Will
you
give
me
a
kiss
?
”
The
charming
little
creature
put
her
slim
sun-burned
arms
round
my
neck
,
and
answered
:
“
As
many
kisses
as
you
like
,
George
.
”
It
was
innocently
said
,
on
her
side
.
It
was
innocently
done
,
on
mine
.
The
good
easy
bailiff
,
looking
aside
at
the
moment
from
his
ducks
,
discovered
us
pursuing
our
boy-and-girl
courtship
in
each
other’s
arms
.
He
shook
his
big
forefinger
at
us
,
with
something
of
a
sad
and
doubting
smile
.
“
Ah
,
Master
George
,
Master
George
!
”
he
said
.
“
When
your
father
comes
home
,
do
you
think
he
will
approve
of
his
son
and
heir
kissing
his
bailiff’s
daughter
?
”
“
When
my
father
comes
home
,
”
I
answered
,
with
great
dignity
,
“
I
shall
tell
him
the
truth
.
I
shall
say
I
am
going
to
marry
your
daughter
.
”
The
bailiff
burst
out
laughing
,
and
looked
back
again
at
his
ducks
.
“
Well
,
well
!
”
we
heard
him
say
to
himself
.
“
They’re
only
children
.
There’s
no
call
,
poor
things
,
to
part
them
yet
awhile
.
”
Mary
and
I
had
a
great
dislike
to
be
called
children
.
Properly
understood
,
one
of
us
was
a
lady
aged
ten
,
and
the
other
was
a
gentleman
aged
thirteen
.
We
left
the
good
bailiff
indignantly
,
and
went
away
together
,
hand
in
hand
,
to
the
cottage
.
“
HE
is
growing
too
fast
,
”
said
the
doctor
to
my
mother
;
“
and
he
is
getting
a
great
deal
too
clever
for
a
boy
at
his
age
.
Remove
him
from
school
,
ma’am
,
for
six
months
;
let
him
run
about
in
the
open
air
at
home
;
and
if
you
find
him
with
a
book
in
his
hand
,
take
it
away
directly
.
There
is
my
prescription
.
”
Those
words
decided
my
fate
in
life
.
In
obedience
to
the
doctor’s
advice
,
I
was
left
an
idle
boy
—
without
brothers
,
sisters
,
or
companions
of
my
own
age
—
to
roam
about
the
grounds
of
our
lonely
country-house
.
The
bailiff’s
daughter
,
like
me
,
was
an
only
child
;
and
,
like
me
,
she
had
no
playfellows
.
We
met
in
our
wanderings
on
the
solitary
shores
of
the
lake
.
Beginning
by
being
inseparable
companions
,
we
ripened
and
developed
into
true
lovers
.
Our
preliminary
courtship
concluded
,
we
next
proposed
(
before
I
returned
to
school
)
to
burst
into
complete
maturity
by
becoming
man
and
wife
.
I
am
not
writing
in
jest
.
Absurd
as
it
may
appear
to
“
sensible
people
,
”
we
two
children
were
lovers
,
if
ever
there
were
lovers
yet
.
We
had
no
pleasures
apart
from
the
one
all-sufficient
pleasure
which
we
found
in
each
other’s
society
.
We
objected
to
the
night
,
because
it
parted
us
.
We
entreated
our
parents
,
on
either
side
,
to
let
us
sleep
in
the
same
room
.
I
was
angry
with
my
mother
,
and
Mary
was
disappointed
in
her
father
,
when
they
laughed
at
us
,
and
wondered
what
we
should
want
next
.
Looking
onward
,
from
those
days
to
the
days
of
my
manhood
,
I
can
vividly
recall
such
hours
of
happiness
as
have
fallen
to
my
share
.
But
I
remember
no
delights
of
that
later
time
comparable
to
the
exquisite
and
enduring
pleasure
that
filled
my
young
being
when
I
walked
with
Mary
in
the
woods
;
when
I
sailed
with
Mary
in
my
boat
on
the
lake
;
when
I
met
Mary
,
after
the
cruel
separation
of
the
night
,
and
flew
into
her
open
arms
as
if
we
had
been
parted
for
months
and
months
together
.
What
was
the
attraction
that
drew
us
so
closely
one
to
the
other
,
at
an
age
when
the
sexual
sympathies
lay
dormant
in
her
and
in
me
?
We
neither
knew
nor
sought
to
know
.
We
obeyed
the
impulse
to
love
one
another
,
as
a
bird
obeys
the
impulse
to
fly
.
Let
it
not
be
supposed
that
we
possessed
any
natural
gifts
,
or
advantages
which
singled
us
out
as
differing
in
a
marked
way
from
other
children
at
our
time
of
life
.
We
possessed
nothing
of
the
sort
.
I
had
been
called
a
clever
boy
at
school
;
but
there
were
thousands
of
other
boys
,
at
thousands
of
other
schools
,
who
headed
their
classes
and
won
their
prizes
,
like
me
.
Personally
speaking
,
I
was
in
no
way
remarkable
—
except
for
being
,
in
the
ordinary
phrase
,
“
tall
for
my
age
.
”
On
her
side
,
Mary
displayed
no
striking
attractions
.
She
was
a
fragile
child
,
with
mild
gray
eyes
and
a
pale
complexion
;
singularly
undemonstrative
,
singularly
shy
and
silent
,
except
when
she
was
alone
with
me
.
Such
beauty
as
she
had
,
in
those
early
days
,
lay
in
a
certain
artless
purity
and
tenderness
of
expression
,
and
in
the
charming
reddish-brown
color
of
her
hair
,
varying
quaintly
and
prettily
in
different
lights
.
To
all
outward
appearance
two
perfectly
commonplace
children
,
we
were
mysteriously
united
by
some
kindred
association
of
the
spirit
in
her
and
the
spirit
in
me
,
which
not
only
defied
discovery
by
our
young
selves
,
but
which
lay
too
deep
for
investigation
by
far
older
and
far
wiser
heads
than
ours
.
You
will
naturally
wonder
whether
anything
was
done
by
our
elders
to
check
our
precocious
attachment
,
while
it
was
still
an
innocent
love
union
between
a
boy
and
a
girl
.
Nothing
was
done
by
my
father
,
for
the
simple
reason
that
he
was
away
from
home
.
He
was
a
man
of
a
restless
and
speculative
turn
of
mind
.
Inheriting
his
estate
burdened
with
debt
,
his
grand
ambition
was
to
increase
his
small
available
income
by
his
own
exertions
;
to
set
up
an
establishment
in
London
;
and
to
climb
to
political
distinction
by
the
ladder
of
Parliament
.
An
old
friend
,
who
had
emigrated
to
America
,
had
proposed
to
him
a
speculation
in
agriculture
,
in
one
of
the
Western
States
,
which
was
to
make
both
their
fortunes
.
My
father’s
eccentric
fancy
was
struck
by
the
idea
.
For
more
than
a
year
past
he
had
been
away
from
us
in
the
United
States
;
and
all
we
knew
of
him
(
instructed
by
his
letters
)
was
,
that
he
might
be
shortly
expected
to
return
to
us
in
the
enviable
character
of
one
of
the
richest
men
in
England
.
As
for
my
poor
mother
—
the
sweetest
and
softest-hearted
of
women
—
to
see
me
happy
was
all
that
she
desired
.
The
quaint
little
love
romance
of
the
two
children
amused
and
interested
her
.
She
jested
with
Mary’s
father
about
the
coming
union
between
the
two
families
,
without
one
serious
thought
of
the
future
—
without
even
a
foreboding
of
what
might
happen
when
my
father
returned
.
“
Sufficient
for
the
day
is
the
evil
(
or
the
good
)
thereof
,
”
had
been
my
mother’s
motto
all
her
life
.
She
agreed
with
the
easy
philosophy
of
the
bailiff
,
already
recorded
in
these
pages
:
“
They’re
only
children
.
There’s
no
call
,
poor
things
,
to
part
them
yet
a
while
.
”
There
was
one
member
of
the
family
,
however
,
who
took
a
sensible
and
serious
view
of
the
matter
.
My
father’s
brother
paid
us
a
visit
in
our
solitude
;
discovered
what
was
going
on
between
Mary
and
me
;
and
was
,
at
first
,
naturally
enough
,
inclined
to
laugh
at
us
.
Closer
investigation
altered
his
way
of
thinking
.
He
became
convinced
that
my
mother
was
acting
like
a
fool
;
that
the
bailiff
(
a
faithful
servant
,
if
ever
there
was
one
yet
)
was
cunningly
advancing
his
own
interests
by
means
of
his
daughter
;
and
that
I
was
a
young
idiot
,
who
had
developed
his
native
reserves
of
imbecility
at
an
unusually
early
period
of
life
.
Speaking
to
my
mother
under
the
influence
of
these
strong
impressions
,
my
uncle
offered
to
take
me
back
with
him
to
London
,
and
keep
me
there
until
I
had
been
brought
to
my
senses
by
association
with
his
own
children
,
and
by
careful
superintendence
under
his
own
roof
.
My
mother
hesitated
about
accepting
this
proposal
;
she
had
the
advantage
over
my
uncle
of
understanding
my
disposition
.
While
she
was
still
doubting
,
while
my
uncle
was
still
impatiently
waiting
for
her
decision
,
I
settled
the
question
for
my
elders
by
running
away
.
I
left
a
letter
to
represent
me
in
my
absence
;
declaring
that
no
mortal
power
should
part
me
from
Mary
,
and
promising
to
return
and
ask
my
mother’s
pardon
as
soon
as
my
uncle
had
left
the
house
.
The
strictest
search
was
made
for
me
without
discovering
a
trace
of
my
place
of
refuge
.
My
uncle
departed
for
London
,
predicting
that
I
should
live
to
be
a
disgrace
to
the
family
,
and
announcing
that
he
should
transmit
his
opinion
of
me
to
my
father
in
America
by
the
next
mail
.
The
secret
of
the
hiding-place
in
which
I
contrived
to
defy
discovery
is
soon
told
.
I
was
hidden
(
without
the
bailiff’s
knowledge
)
in
the
bedroom
of
the
bailiff’s
mother
.
And
did
the
bailiff’s
mother
know
it
?
you
will
ask
.
To
which
I
answer
:
the
bailiff’s
mother
did
it
.
And
,
what
is
more
,
gloried
in
doing
it
—
not
,
observe
,
as
an
act
of
hostility
to
my
relatives
,
but
simply
as
a
duty
that
lay
on
her
conscience
.
What
sort
of
old
woman
,
in
the
name
of
all
that
is
wonderful
,
was
this
?
Let
her
appear
,
and
speak
for
herself
—
the
wild
and
weird
grandmother
of
gentle
little
Mary
;
the
Sibyl
of
modern
times
,
known
,
far
and
wide
,
in
our
part
of
Suffolk
,
as
Dame
Dermody
.
I
see
her
again
,
as
I
write
,
sitting
in
her
son’s
pretty
cottage
parlor
,
hard
by
the
window
,
so
that
the
light
fell
over
her
shoulder
while
she
knitted
or
read
.
A
little
,
lean
,
wiry
old
woman
was
Dame
Dermody
—
with
fierce
black
eyes
,
surmounted
by
bushy
white
eyebrows
,
by
a
high
wrinkled
forehead
,
and
by
thick
white
hair
gathered
neatly
under
her
old-fashioned
“
mob-cap
.
”
Report
whispered
(
and
whispered
truly
)
that
she
had
been
a
lady
by
birth
and
breeding
,
and
that
she
had
deliberately
closed
her
prospects
in
life
by
marrying
a
man
greatly
her
inferior
in
social
rank
.
Whatever
her
family
might
think
of
her
marriage
,
she
herself
never
regretted
it
.
In
her
estimation
her
husband’s
memory
was
a
sacred
memory
;
his
spirit
was
a
guardian
spirit
,
watching
over
her
,
waking
or
sleeping
,
morning
or
night
.
Holding
this
faith
,
she
was
in
no
respect
influenced
by
those
grossly
material
ideas
of
modern
growth
which
associate
the
presence
of
spiritual
beings
with
clumsy
conjuring
tricks
and
monkey
antics
performed
on
tables
and
chairs
.
Dame
Dermody’s
nobler
superstition
formed
an
integral
part
of
her
religious
convictions
—
convictions
which
had
long
since
found
their
chosen
resting-place
in
the
mystic
doctrines
of
Emanuel
Swedenborg
.
The
only
books
which
she
read
were
the
works
of
the
Swedish
Seer
.
She
mixed
up
Swedenborg’s
teachings
on
angels
and
departed
spirits
,
on
love
to
one’s
neighbor
and
purity
of
life
,
with
wild
fancies
,
and
kindred
beliefs
of
her
own
;
and
preached
the
visionary
religious
doctrines
thus
derived
,
not
only
in
the
bailiff’s
household
,
but
also
on
proselytizing
expeditions
to
the
households
of
her
humble
neighbors
,
far
and
near
.
Under
her
son’s
roof
—
after
the
death
of
his
wife
—
she
reigned
a
supreme
power
;
priding
herself
alike
on
her
close
attention
to
her
domestic
duties
,
and
on
her
privileged
communications
with
angels
and
spirits
.
She
would
hold
long
colloquys
with
the
spirit
of
her
dead
husband
before
anybody
who
happened
to
be
present
—
colloquys
which
struck
the
simple
spectators
mute
with
terror
.
To
her
mystic
view
,
the
love
union
between
Mary
and
me
was
something
too
sacred
and
too
beautiful
to
be
tried
by
the
mean
and
matter-of-fact
tests
set
up
by
society
.
She
wrote
for
us
little
formulas
of
prayer
and
praise
,
which
we
were
to
use
when
we
met
and
when
we
parted
,
day
by
day
.
She
solemnly
warned
her
son
to
look
upon
us
as
two
young
consecrated
creatures
,
walking
unconsciously
on
a
heavenly
path
of
their
own
,
whose
beginning
was
on
earth
,
but
whose
bright
end
was
among
the
angels
in
a
better
state
of
being
.
Imagine
my
appearing
before
such
a
woman
as
this
,
and
telling
her
with
tears
of
despair
that
I
was
determined
to
die
,
rather
than
let
my
uncle
part
me
from
little
Mary
,
and
you
will
no
longer
be
astonished
at
the
hospitality
which
threw
open
to
me
the
sanctuary
of
Dame
Dermody’s
own
room
.
When
the
safe
time
came
for
leaving
my
hiding-place
,
I
committed
a
serious
mistake
.
In
thanking
the
old
woman
at
parting
,
I
said
to
her
(
with
a
boy’s
sense
of
honor
)
,
“
I
won’t
tell
upon
you
,
Dame
.
My
mother
shan’t
know
that
you
hid
me
in
your
bedroom
.
”
The
Sibyl
laid
her
dry
,
fleshless
hand
on
my
shoulder
,
and
forced
me
roughly
back
into
the
chair
from
which
I
had
just
risen
.
“
Boy
!
”
she
said
,
looking
through
and
through
me
with
her
fierce
black
eyes
.
“
Do
you
dare
suppose
that
I
ever
did
anything
that
I
was
ashamed
of
?
Do
you
think
I
am
ashamed
of
what
I
have
done
now
?
Wait
there
.
Your
mother
may
mistake
me
too
.
I
shall
write
to
your
mother
.
”
She
put
on
her
great
round
spectacles
with
tortoise-shell
rims
and
sat
down
to
her
letter
.
Whenever
her
thoughts
flagged
,
whenever
she
was
at
a
loss
for
an
expression
,
she
looked
over
her
shoulder
,
as
if
some
visible
creature
were
stationed
behind
her
,
watching
what
she
wrote
;
consulted
the
spirit
of
her
husband
,
exactly
as
she
might
have
consulted
a
living
man
;
smiled
softly
to
herself
,
and
went
on
with
her
writing
.
“
There
!
”
she
said
,
handing
me
the
completed
letter
with
an
imperial
gesture
of
indulgence
.
“
His
mind
and
my
mind
are
written
there
.
Go
,
boy
.
I
pardon
you
.
Give
my
letter
to
your
mother
.
”
So
she
always
spoke
,
with
the
same
formal
and
measured
dignity
of
manner
and
language
.
I
gave
the
letter
to
my
mother
.
We
read
it
,
and
marveled
over
it
together
.
Thus
,
counseled
by
the
ever-present
spirit
of
her
husband
,
Dame
Dermody
wrote
:
“
MADAM
—
I
have
taken
what
you
may
be
inclined
to
think
a
great
liberty
.
I
have
assisted
your
son
George
in
setting
his
uncle’s
authority
at
defiance
.
I
have
encouraged
your
son
George
in
his
resolution
to
be
true
,
in
time
and
in
eternity
,
to
my
grandchild
,
Mary
Dermody
.
“
It
is
due
to
you
and
to
me
that
I
should
tell
you
with
what
motive
I
have
acted
in
doing
these
things
.
“
I
hold
the
belief
that
all
love
that
is
true
is
foreordained
and
consecrated
in
heaven
.
Spirits
destined
to
be
united
in
the
better
world
are
divinely
commissioned
to
discover
each
other
and
to
begin
their
union
in
this
world
.
The
only
happy
marriages
are
those
in
which
the
two
destined
spirits
have
succeeded
in
meeting
one
another
in
this
sphere
of
life
.
“
When
the
kindred
spirits
have
once
met
,
no
human
power
can
really
part
them
.
Sooner
or
later
,
they
must
,
by
divine
law
,
find
each
other
again
and
become
united
spirits
once
more
.
Worldly
wisdom
may
force
them
into
widely
different
ways
of
life
;
worldly
wisdom
may
delude
them
,
or
may
make
them
delude
themselves
,
into
contracting
an
earthly
and
a
fallible
union
.
It
matters
nothing
.
The
time
will
certainly
come
when
that
union
will
manifest
itself
as
earthly
and
fallible
;
and
the
two
disunited
spirits
,
finding
each
other
again
,
will
become
united
here
for
the
world
beyond
this
—
united
,
I
tell
you
,
in
defiance
of
all
human
laws
and
of
all
human
notions
of
right
and
wrong
.
“
This
is
my
belief
.
I
have
proved
it
by
my
own
life
.
Maid
,
wife
,
and
widow
,
I
have
held
to
it
,
and
I
have
found
it
good
.
“
I
was
born
,
madam
,
in
the
rank
of
society
to
which
you
belong
.
I
received
the
mean
,
material
teaching
which
fulfills
the
worldly
notion
of
education
.
Thanks
be
to
God
,
my
kindred
spirit
met
my
spirit
while
I
was
still
young
.
I
knew
true
love
and
true
union
before
I
was
twenty
years
of
age
.
I
married
,
madam
,
in
the
rank
from
which
Christ
chose
his
apostles
—
I
married
a
laboring-man
.
No
human
language
can
tell
my
happiness
while
we
lived
united
here
.
His
death
has
not
parted
us
.
He
helps
me
to
write
this
letter
.
In
my
last
hours
I
shall
see
him
standing
among
the
angels
,
waiting
for
me
on
the
banks
of
the
shining
river
.
“
You
will
now
understand
the
view
I
take
of
the
tie
which
unites
the
young
spirits
of
our
children
at
the
bright
outset
of
their
lives
.
“
Believe
me
,
the
thing
which
your
husband’s
brother
has
proposed
to
you
to
do
is
a
sacrilege
and
a
profanation
.
I
own
to
you
freely
that
I
look
on
what
I
have
done
toward
thwarting
your
relative
in
this
matter
as
an
act
of
virtue
.
You
cannot
expect
me
to
think
it
a
serious
obstacle
to
a
union
predestined
in
heaven
,
that
your
son
is
the
squire’s
heir
,
and
that
my
grandchild
is
only
the
bailiff’s
daughter
.
Dismiss
from
your
mind
,
I
implore
you
,
the
unworthy
and
unchristian
prejudices
of
rank
.
Are
we
not
all
equal
before
God
?
Are
we
not
all
equal
(
even
in
this
world
)
before
disease
and
death
?
Not
your
son’s
happiness
only
,
but
your
own
peace
of
mind
,
is
concerned
in
taking
heed
to
my
words
.
I
warn
you
,
madam
,
you
cannot
hinder
the
destined
union
of
these
two
child-spirits
,
in
after-years
,
as
man
and
wife
.
Part
them
now
—
and
YOU
will
be
responsible
for
the
sacrifices
,
degradations
and
distresses
through
which
your
George
and
my
Mary
may
be
condemned
to
pass
on
their
way
back
to
each
other
in
later
life
.
“
Now
my
mind
is
unburdened
.
Now
I
have
said
all
.
“
If
I
have
spoken
too
freely
,
or
have
in
any
other
way
unwittingly
offended
,
I
ask
your
pardon
,
and
remain
,
madam
,
your
faithful
servant
and
well-wisher
,
HELEN
DERMODY
.
”
So
the
letter
ended
.
To
me
it
is
something
more
than
a
mere
curiosity
of
epistolary
composition
.
I
see
in
it
the
prophecy
—
strangely
fulfilled
in
later
years
—
of
events
in
Mary’s
life
,
and
in
mine
,
which
future
pages
are
now
to
tell
.
My
mother
decided
on
leaving
the
letter
unanswered
.
Like
many
of
her
poorer
neighbors
,
she
was
a
little
afraid
of
Dame
Dermody
;
and
she
was
,
besides
,
habitually
averse
to
all
discussions
which
turned
on
the
mysteries
of
spiritual
life
.
I
was
reproved
,
admonished
,
and
forgiven
;
and
there
was
the
end
of
it
.
For
some
happy
weeks
Mary
and
I
returned
,
without
hinderance
or
interruption
,
to
our
old
intimate
companionship
The
end
was
coming
,
however
,
when
we
least
expected
it
.
My
mother
was
startled
,
one
morning
,
by
a
letter
from
my
father
,
which
informed
her
that
he
had
been
unexpectedly
obliged
to
sail
for
England
at
a
moment’s
notice
;
that
he
had
arrived
in
London
,
and
that
he
was
detained
there
by
business
which
would
admit
of
no
delay
.
We
were
to
wait
for
him
at
home
,
in
daily
expectation
of
seeing
him
the
moment
he
was
free
.
This
news
filled
my
mother’s
mind
with
foreboding
doubts
of
the
stability
of
her
husband’s
grand
speculation
in
America
.
The
sudden
departure
from
the
United
States
,
and
the
mysterious
delay
in
London
,
were
ominous
,
to
her
eyes
,
of
misfortune
to
come
.
I
am
now
writing
of
those
dark
days
in
the
past
,
when
the
railway
and
the
electric
telegraph
were
still
visions
in
the
minds
of
inventors
.
Rapid
communication
with
my
father
(
even
if
he
would
have
consented
to
take
us
into
his
confidence
)
was
impossible
.
We
had
no
choice
but
to
wait
and
hope
.
The
weary
days
passed
;
and
still
my
father’s
brief
letters
described
him
as
detained
by
his
business
.
The
morning
came
when
Mary
and
I
went
out
with
Dermody
,
the
bailiff
,
to
see
the
last
wild
fowl
of
the
season
lured
into
the
decoy
;
and
still
the
welcome
home
waited
for
the
master
,
and
waited
in
vain
.
The
narrative
may
now
follow
my
little
sweetheart
and
myself
,
on
our
way
to
Dermody
's
cottage
As
we
approached
the
garden
gate
,
I
saw
a
servant
from
the
house
waiting
there
.
He
carried
a
message
from
my
mother
—
a
message
for
me
.
“
My
mistress
wishes
you
to
go
home
,
Master
George
,
as
soon
as
you
can
.
A
letter
has
come
by
the
coach
.
My
master
means
to
take
a
post-chaise
from
London
,
and
sends
word
that
we
may
expect
him
in
the
course
of
the
day
.
”
Mary’s
attentive
face
saddened
when
she
heard
those
words
.
“
Must
you
really
go
away
,
George
,
”
she
whispered
,
“
before
you
see
what
I
have
got
waiting
for
you
at
home
?
”
I
remembered
Mary’s
promised
“
surprise
,
”
the
secret
of
which
was
only
to
be
revealed
to
me
when
we
got
to
the
cottage
.
How
could
I
disappoint
her
?
My
poor
little
lady-love
looked
ready
to
cry
at
the
bare
prospect
of
it
.
I
dismissed
the
servant
with
a
message
of
the
temporizing
sort
.
My
love
to
my
mother
—
and
I
would
be
back
at
the
house
in
half
an
hour
.
We
entered
the
cottage
.
Dame
Dermody
was
sitting
in
the
light
of
the
window
,
as
usual
,
with
one
of
the
mystic
books
of
Emanuel
Swedenborg
open
on
her
lap
.
She
solemnly
lifted
her
hand
on
our
appearance
,
signing
to
us
to
occupy
our
customary
corner
without
speaking
to
her
.
It
was
an
act
of
domestic
high
treason
to
interrupt
the
Sibyl
at
her
books
.
We
crept
quietly
into
our
places
.
Mary
waited
until
she
saw
her
grandmother’s
gray
head
bend
down
,
and
her
grandmother’s
bushy
eyebrows
contract
attentively
,
over
her
reading
.
Then
,
and
then
only
,
the
discreet
child
rose
on
tiptoe
,
disappeared
noiselessly
in
the
direction
of
her
bedchamber
,
and
came
back
to
me
carrying
something
carefully
wrapped
up
in
her
best
cambric
handkerchief
.
“
Is
that
the
surprise
?
”
I
whispered
.
Mary
whispered
back
:
“
Guess
what
it
is
?
”
“
Something
for
me
?
”
“
Yes
.
Go
on
guessing
.
What
is
it
?
”
I
guessed
three
times
,
and
each
guess
was
wrong
.
Mary
decided
on
helping
me
by
a
hint
.
“
Say
your
letters
,
”
she
suggested
;
“
and
go
on
till
I
stop
you
.
”
I
began
:
“
A
,
B
,
C
,
D
,
E
,
F
—
”
There
she
stopped
me
.
“
It’s
the
name
of
a
Thing
,
”
she
said
;
“
and
it
begins
with
F
.
”
I
guessed
,
“
Fern
,
”
“
Feather
,
”
“
Fife
.
”
And
here
my
resources
failed
me
.
Mary
sighed
,
and
shook
her
head
.
“
You
don’t
take
pains
,
”
she
said
.
“
You
are
three
whole
years
older
than
I
am
.
After
all
the
trouble
I
have
taken
to
please
you
,
you
may
be
too
big
to
care
for
my
present
when
you
see
it
.
Guess
again
.
”
“
I
can’t
guess
.
”
“
You
must
!
”
“
I
give
it
up
.
”
Mary
refused
to
let
me
give
it
up
.
She
helped
me
by
another
hint
.
“
What
did
you
once
say
you
wished
you
had
in
your
boat
?
”
she
asked
.
“
Was
it
long
ago
?
”
I
inquired
,
at
a
loss
for
an
answer
.
“
Long
,
long
ago
!
Before
the
winter
.
When
the
autumn
leaves
were
falling
,
and
you
took
me
out
one
evening
for
a
sail
.
Ah
,
George
,
you
have
forgotten
!
”
Too
true
,
of
me
and
of
my
brethren
,
old
and
young
alike
!
It
is
always
his
love
that
forgets
,
and
her
love
that
remembers
.
We
were
only
two
children
,
and
we
were
types
of
the
man
and
the
woman
already
.
Mary
lost
patience
with
me
.
Forgetting
the
terrible
presence
of
her
grandmother
,
she
jumped
up
,
and
snatched
the
concealed
object
out
of
her
handkerchief
.
“
There
!
”
she
cried
,
briskly
,
“
now
do
you
know
what
it
is
?
”
I
remembered
at
last
.
The
thing
I
had
wished
for
in
my
boat
,
all
those
months
ago
,
was
a
new
flag
.
And
here
was
the
flag
,
made
for
me
in
secret
by
Mary’s
own
hand
!
The
ground
was
green
silk
,
with
a
dove
embroidered
on
it
in
white
,
carrying
in
its
beak
the
typical
olive-branch
,
wrought
in
gold
thread
.
The
work
was
the
tremulous
,
uncertain
work
of
a
child’s
fingers
.
But
how
faithfully
my
little
darling
had
remembered
my
wish
!
how
patiently
she
had
plied
the
needle
over
the
traced
lines
of
the
pattern
!
how
industriously
she
had
labored
through
the
dreary
winter
days
!
and
all
for
my
sake
!
What
words
could
tell
my
pride
,
my
gratitude
,
my
happiness
?
I
too
forgot
the
presence
of
the
Sibyl
bending
over
her
book
.
I
took
the
little
workwoman
in
my
arms
,
and
kissed
her
till
I
was
fairly
out
of
breath
and
could
kiss
no
longer
.
“
Mary
!
”
I
burst
out
,
in
the
first
heat
of
my
enthusiasm
,
“
my
father
is
coming
home
to-day
.
I
will
speak
to
him
to-night
.
And
I
will
marry
you
to-morrow
!
”
“
Boy
!
”
said
the
awful
voice
at
the
other
end
of
the
room
.
“
Come
here
.
”
Dame
Dermody’s
mystic
book
was
closed
;
Dame
Dermody’s
weird
black
eyes
were
watching
us
in
our
corner
.
I
approached
her
;
and
Mary
followed
me
timidly
,
by
a
footstep
at
a
time
.
The
Sibyl
took
me
by
the
hand
,
with
a
caressing
gentleness
which
was
new
in
my
experience
of
her
.
“
Do
you
prize
that
toy
?
”
she
inquired
,
looking
at
the
flag
.
“
Hide
it
!
”
she
cried
,
before
I
could
answer
.
“
Hide
it
—
or
it
may
be
taken
from
you
!
”
“
Why
should
I
hide
it
?
”
I
asked
.
“
I
want
to
fly
it
at
the
mast
of
my
boat
.
”
“
You
will
never
fly
it
at
the
mast
of
your
boat
!
”
With
that
answer
she
took
the
flag
from
me
and
thrust
it
impatiently
into
the
breast-pocket
of
my
jacket
.
“
Don’t
crumple
it
,
grandmother
!
”
said
Mary
,
piteously
.
I
repeated
my
question
:
“
Why
shall
I
never
fly
it
at
the
mast
of
my
boat
?
”
Dame
Dermody
laid
her
hand
on
the
closed
volume
of
Swedenborg
lying
in
her
lap
.
“
Three
times
I
have
opened
this
book
since
the
morning
,
”
she
said
.
“
Three
times
the
words
of
the
prophet
warn
me
that
there
is
trouble
coming
.
Children
,
it
is
trouble
that
is
coming
to
You
.
I
look
there
,
”
she
went
on
,
pointing
to
the
place
where
a
ray
of
sunlight
poured
slanting
into
the
room
,
“
and
I
see
my
husband
in
the
heavenly
light
.
He
bows
his
head
in
grief
,
and
he
points
his
unerring
hand
at
You
.
George
and
Mary
,
you
are
consecrated
to
each
other
!
Be
always
worthy
of
your
consecration
;
be
always
worthy
of
yourselves
.
”
She
paused
.
Her
voice
faltered
.
She
looked
at
us
with
softening
eyes
,
as
those
look
who
know
sadly
that
there
is
a
parting
at
hand
.
“
Kneel
!
”
she
said
,
in
low
tones
of
awe
and
grief
.
“
It
may
be
the
last
time
I
bless
you
—
it
may
be
the
last
time
I
pray
over
you
,
in
this
house
.
Kneel
!
”
We
knelt
close
together
at
her
feet
.
I
could
feel
Mary’s
heart
throbbing
,
as
she
pressed
nearer
and
nearer
to
my
side
.
I
could
feel
my
own
heart
quickening
its
beat
,
with
a
fear
that
was
a
mystery
to
me
.
“
God
bless
and
keep
George
and
Mary
,
here
and
hereafter
!
God
prosper
,
in
future
days
,
the
union
which
God’s
wisdom
has
willed
!
Amen
.
So
be
it
.
Amen
.
”
As
the
last
words
fell
from
her
lips
the
cottage
door
was
thrust
open
.
My
father
—
followed
by
the
bailiff
—
entered
the
room
.
Dame
Dermody
got
slowly
on
her
feet
,
and
looked
at
him
with
a
stern
scrutiny
.
“
It
has
come
,
”
she
said
to
herself
.
“
It
looks
with
the
eyes
—
it
will
speak
with
the
voice
—
of
that
man
.
”
My
father
broke
the
silence
that
followed
,
addressing
himself
to
the
bailiff
.
“
You
see
,
Dermody
,
”
he
said
,
“
here
is
my
son
in
your
cottage
—
when
he
ought
to
be
in
my
house
.
”
He
turned
,
and
looked
at
me
as
I
stood
with
my
arm
round
little
Mary
,
patiently
waiting
for
my
opportunity
to
speak
.
“
George
,
”
he
said
,
with
the
hard
smile
which
was
peculiar
to
him
,
when
he
was
angry
and
was
trying
to
hide
it
,
“
you
are
making
a
fool
of
yourself
there
.
Leave
that
child
,
and
come
to
me
.
”
Now
,
or
never
,
was
my
time
to
declare
myself
.
Judging
by
appearances
,
I
was
still
a
boy
.
Judging
by
my
own
sensations
,
I
had
developed
into
a
man
at
a
moment’s
notice
.
“
Papa
,
”
I
said
,
“
I
am
glad
to
see
you
home
again
.
This
is
Mary
Dermody
.
I
am
in
love
with
her
,
and
she
is
in
love
with
me
.
I
wish
to
marry
her
as
soon
as
it
is
convenient
to
my
mother
and
you
.
”
My
father
burst
out
laughing
.
Before
I
could
speak
again
,
his
humor
changed
.
He
had
observed
that
Dermody
,
too
,
presumed
to
be
amused
.
He
seemed
to
become
mad
with
anger
,
all
in
a
moment
.
“
I
have
been
told
of
this
infernal
tomfoolery
,
”
he
said
,
“
but
I
didn’t
believe
it
till
now
.
Who
has
turned
the
boy’s
weak
head
?
Who
has
encouraged
him
to
stand
there
hugging
that
girl
?
If
it’s
you
,
Dermody
,
it
shall
be
the
worst
day’s
work
you
ever
did
in
your
life
.
”
He
turned
to
me
again
,
before
the
bailiff
could
defend
himself
.
“
Do
you
hear
what
I
say
?
I
tell
you
to
leave
Dermody’s
girl
,
and
come
home
with
me
.
”
“
Yes
,
papa
,
”
I
answered
.
“
But
I
must
go
back
to
Mary
,
if
you
please
,
after
I
have
been
with
you
.
”
Angry
as
he
was
,
my
father
was
positively
staggered
by
my
audacity
.
“
You
young
idiot
,
your
insolence
exceeds
belief
!
”
he
burst
out
.
“
I
tell
you
this
:
you
will
never
darken
these
doors
again
!
You
have
been
taught
to
disobey
me
here
.
You
have
had
things
put
into
your
head
,
here
,
which
no
boy
of
your
age
ought
to
know
—
I’ll
say
more
,
which
no
decent
people
