takeit
like
children
!
'
he
cried
,
with
a
shiver
,
almost
petulantly
.
'
There
will
be
dark
hours
enough
.
It
is
so
good
to
be
happy
.
'
She
leant
her
cheek
fondly
against
his
shoulder
.
To
her
life
always
meant
self-restraint
,
self-repression
,
self-deadening
,
if
need
be
.
The
Puritan
distrust
of
personal
joy
as
something
dangerous
and
ensnaring
was
deep
ingrained
in
her
.
It
had
no
natural
hold
on
him
.
They
stood
a
moment
hand
in
hand
fronting
the
cornfield
and
the
sun-filled
west
,
while
the
afternoon
breeze
blew
back
the
man
's
curly
reddish
hair
,
long
since
restored
to
all
its
natural
abundance
.
Presently
Robert
broke
into
a
broad
smile
.
'
What
do
you
suppose
Langham
has
been
entertaining
Rose
with
on
the
way
,
Catherine
?
I
would
n't
miss
her
remarks
to-night
on
the
escort
we
provided
her
for
a
good
deal
.
'
Catherine
said
nothing
,
but
her
delicate
eyebrows
went
up
a
little
.
Robert
stooped
and
lightly
kissed
her
.
'
You
never
performed
a
greater
act
of
virtue
even
in
your
life
,
Mrs.
Elsmere
,
than
when
you
wrote
Langham
that
nice
letter
of
invitation
.
'
And
then
the
young
rector
sighed
,
as
many
a
boyish
memory
came
crowding
upon
him
.
A
sound
of
wheels
!
Robert
's
long
legs
took
him
to
the
gate
in
a
twinkling
,
and
he
flung
it
open
just
as
Rose
drove
up
in
fine
style
,
a
thin
dark
man
beside
her
.
Rose
lent
her
bright
cheek
to
Catherine
's
kiss
,
and
the
two
sisters
walked
up
to
the
door
together
,
while
Robert
and
Langham
loitered
after
them
talking
.
'
Oh
,
Catherine
!
'
said
Rose
under
her
breath
,
as
they
got
into
the
drawing-room
,
with
a
little
theatrical
gesture
,
'
why
on
earth
did
you
inflict
that
man
and
me
on
each
other
for
two
mortal
hours
?
'
'
Sh-sh
!
'
said
Catherine
's
lips
,
while
her
face
gleamed
with
laughter
.
Rose
sank
flushed
upon
a
chair
,
her
eyes
glancing
up
with
a
little
furtive
anger
in
them
as
the
two
gentlemen
entered
the
room
.
'
You
found
each
other
easily
at
Waterloo
?
'
asked
Robert
.
'
Mr
.
Langham
would
never
have
found
me
,
'
said
Rose
drily
;
'
but
I
pounced
on
him
at
last
—
just
,
I
believe
,
as
he
was
begin
ning
to
cherish
the
hope
of
an
empty
carriage
and
the
solitary
enjoyment
of
his
Saturday
Review
.
'
Langham
smiled
nervously
.
'
Miss
Leyburn
is
too
hard
on
a
blind
man
,
'
he
said
,
holding
up
his
eyeglass
apologetically
;
'
it
was
my
eyes
,
not
my
will
,
that
were
at
fault
.
'
Rose
's
lip
curled
a
little
.
'
And
Robert
,
'
she
cried
,
bending
forward
as
though
something
had
just
occurred
to
her
,
'
do
tell
me
—
I
vowed
I
would
ask
—
is
Mr.
Langham
a
Liberal
or
a
Conservative
?
He
does
n't
know
!
'
Robert
laughed
,
so
did
Langham
.
'
Your
sister
,
'
he
said
,
flushing
,
'
will
have
one
so
very
precise
in
all
one
says
.
'
He
turned
his
handsome
olive
face
towards
her
,
an
unwonted
spark
of
animation
lighting
up
his
black
eyes
.
It
was
evident
that
he
felt
himself
persecuted
,
but
it
was
not
so
evident
whether
he
enjoyed
the
process
or
disliked
it
.
'
Oh
dear
,
no
!
'
said
Rose
nonchalantly
.
'
Only
I
have
just
come
from
a
house
where
everybody
either
loathes
Mr.
Gladstone
or
would
die
for
him
to-morrow
.
There
was
a
girl
of
seven
and
a
boy
of
nine
who
were
always
discussing
"
Coercion
"
in
the
corners
of
the
schoolroom
.
So
,
of
course
,
I
have
grown
political
too
,
and
began
to
catechise
Mr.
Langham
at
once
,
and
when
he
said
"
he
did
n't
know
,
"
I
felt
I
should
like
to
set
those
children
at
him
!
They
would
soon
put
some
principles
into
him
!
'
'
It
is
not
generally
lack
of
principle
,
Miss
Rose
,
'
said
her
brother-in-law
,
'
that
turns
a
man
a
doubter
in
politics
,
but
too
much
!
'
And
while
he
spoke
,
his
eyes
resting
on
Langham
,
his
smile
broadened
as
he
recalled
all
those
instances
in
their
Oxford
past
,
when
he
had
taken
a
humble
share
in
one
of
the
herculean
efforts
on
the
part
of
Langham
's
friends
,
which
were
always
necessary
whenever
it
was
a
question
of
screwing
a
vote
out
of
him
on
any
debated
University
question
.
'
How
dull
it
must
be
to
have
too
much
principle
!
'
cried
Rose
.
'
Like
a
mill
choked
with
corn
.
No
bread
because
the
machine
ca
n't
work
!
'
'
Defend
me
from
my
friends
!
'
cried
Langham
,
roused
.
'
Elsmere
,
when
did
I
give
you
a
right
to
caricature
me
in
this
way
?
If
I
were
interested
,
'
he
added
,
subsiding
into
his
usual
hesitating
ineffectiveness
,
'
I
suppose
I
should
know
my
own
mind
.
'
And
then
seizing
the
muffins
,
he
stood
presenting
them
to
Rose
as
though
in
deprecation
of
any
further
personalities
.
Inside
him
there
was
a
hot
protest
against
an
unreasonable
young
beauty
whom
he
had
done
his
miserable
best
to
entertain
for
two
long
hours
,
and
who
in
return
had
made
him
feel
himself
more
of
a
fool
than
he
had
done
for
years
.
Since
when
had
young
women
put
on
all
these
airs
?
In
his
young
days
they
knew
their
place
.
Catherine
meanwhile
sat
watching
her
sister
.
The
child
was
more
beautiful
than
ever
,
but
in
other
outer
respects
the
Rose
of
Long
Whindale
had
undergone
much
transformation
.
The
puffed
sleeves
,
the
æsthetic
skirts
,
the
naïve
adornments
of
bead
and
shell
,
the
formless
hat
,
which
it
pleased
her
to
imagine
'
after
Gainsborough
,
'
had
all
disappeared
.
She
was
clad
in
some
soft
fawn-coloured
garment
,
cut
very
much
in
the
fashion
;
her
hair
was
closely
rolled
and
twisted
about
her
lightly-balanced
head
;
everything
about
her
was
neat
and
fresh
and
tight-fitting
.
A
year
ago
she
had
been
a
damsel
from
the
'
Earthly
Paradise
'
;
now
,
so
far
as
an
English
girl
can
achieve
it
,
she
might
have
been
a
model
for
Tissot
.
In
this
phase
,
as
in
the
other
,
there
was
a
touch
of
extravagance
.
The
girl
was
developing
fast
,
but
had
clearly
not
yet
developed
.
The
restlessness
,
the
self-consciousness
of
Long
Whindale
were
still
there
;
out
they
spoke
to
the
spectator
in
different
ways
.
But
in
her
anxious
study
of
her
sister
Catherine
did
not
forget
her
place
of
hostess
.
'
Did
our
man
bring
you
through
the
park
,
Mr.
Langham
?
'
she
asked
him
timidly
.
'
Yes
.
What
an
exquisite
old
house
!
'
he
said
,
turning
to
her
,
and
feeling
through
all
his
critical
sense
the
difference
between
the
gentle
matronly
dignity
of
the
one
sister
and
the
young
self-assertion
of
the
other
.
'
Ah
,
'
said
Robert
,
'
I
kept
that
as
a
surprise
!
Did
you
ever
see
a
more
perfect
place
?
'
'
What
date
?
'
'
Early
Tudor
—
as
to
the
oldest
part
.
It
was
built
by
a
relation
of
Bishop
Fisher
's
;
then
largely
rebuilt
under
James
I
.
Elizabeth
stayed
there
twice
.
There
is
a
trace
of
a
visit
of
Sidney
's
.
Waller
was
there
,
and
left
a
copy
of
verses
in
the
library
.
Evelyn
laid
out
a
great
deal
of
the
garden
.
Lord
Clarendon
wrote
part
of
his
History
in
the
garden
,
et
cetera
,
et
cetera
.
The
place
is
steeped
in
associations
,
and
as
beautiful
as
a
dream
to
begin
with
.
'
'
And
the
owner
of
all
this
is
the
author
of
The
Idols
of
the
Market-place
?
'
Robert
nodded
.
'
Did
you
ever
meet
him
at
Oxford
?
I
believe
he
was
there
once
or
twice
during
my
time
,
but
I
never
saw
him
.
'
'
Yes
,
'
said
Langham
,
thinking
.
'
I
met
him
at
dinner
at
the
Vice-Chancellor
's
,
now
I
remember
.
A
bizarre
and
formidable
person
—
very
difficult
to
talk
to
,
'
he
added
reflectively
.
Then
as
he
looked
up
he
caught
a
sarcastic
twitch
of
Rose
Leyburn
's
lip
and
understood
it
in
a
moment
.
Incontinently
he
forgot
the
squire
and
fell
to
asking
himself
what
had
possessed
him
on
that
luckless
journey
down
.
He
had
never
seemed
to
himself
more
perverse
,
more
unmanageable
;
and
for
once
his
philosophy
did
not
enable
him
to
swallow
the
certainty
that
this
slim
flashing
creature
must
have
thought
him
a
morbid
idiot
with
as
much
sangfroid
as
usual
.
Robert
interrupted
his
reflections
by
some
Oxford
question
,
and
presently
Catherine
carried
off
Rose
to
her
room
.
On
their
way
they
passed
a
door
,
beside
which
Catherine
paused
hesitating
,
and
then
with
a
bright
flush
on
the
face
,
which
had
such
maternal
calm
in
it
already
,
she
threw
her
arm
round
Rose
and
drew
her
in
.
It
was
a
white
empty
room
,
smelling
of
the
roses
outside
,
and
waiting
in
the
evening
stillness
for
the
life
that
was
to
be
.
Rose
looked
at
it
all
—
at
the
piles
of
tiny
garments
,
the
cradle
,
the
pictures
from
Retsch
's
'
Song
of
the
Bell
,
'
which
had
been
the
companion
of
their
own
childhood
,
on
the
walls
—
and
something
stirred
in
the
girl
's
breast
.
'
Catherine
,
I
believe
you
have
everything
you
want
,
or
you
soon
will
have
!
'
she
cried
,
almost
with
a
kind
of
bitterness
,
laying
her
hands
on
her
sister
's
shoulders
.
'
Everything
but
worthiness
!
'
said
Catherine
softly
,
a
mist
rising
in
her
calm
gray
eyes
.
'
And
you
,
Röschen
,
'
she
added
wistfully
,
'
have
you
been
getting
a
little
more
what
you
want
?
'
'
What
's
the
good
of
asking
?
'
said
the
girl
,
with
a
little
shrug
of
impatience
.
'
As
if
creatures
like
me
ever
got
what
they
want
!
London
has
been
good
fun
certainly
—
if
one
could
get
enough
of
it
.
Catherine
,
how
long
is
that
marvellous
person
going
to
stay
?
'
and
she
pointed
in
the
direction
of
Langham
's
room
.
'
A
week
,
'
said
Catherine
,
smiling
at
the
girl
's
disdainful
tone
.
'
I
was
afraid
you
did
n't
take
to
him
.
'
'
I
never
saw
such
a
being
before
,
'
declared
Rose
—
'
never
!
I
thought
I
should
never
get
a
plain
answer
from
him
about
anything
.
He
was
n't
even
quite
certain
it
was
a
fine
day
!
I
wonder
if
you
set
fire
to
him
whether
he
would
be
sure
it
hurt
!
A
week
,
you
say
?
Heigh
ho
!
what
an
age
!
'
'
Be
kind
to
him
,
'
said
Catherine
,
discreetly
veiling
her
own
feelings
,
and
caressing
the
curly
golden
head
as
they
moved
towards
the
door
.
'
He
's
a
poor
lone
don
,
and
he
was
so
good
to
Robert
!
'
'
Excellent
reason
for
you
,
Mrs.
Elsmere
,
'
said
Rose
,
pouting
;
'
but
—
—
'
Her
further
remarks
were
cut
short
by
the
sound
of
the
front-door
bell
.
'
Oh
,
I
had
forgotten
Mr.
Newcome
!
'
cried
Catherine
,
starting
.
'
Come
down
soon
,
Rose
,
and
help
us
through
.
'
'
Who
is
he
?
'
inquired
Rose
sharply
.
'
A
High
Church
clergyman
near
here
,
whom
Robert
asked
to
tea
this
afternoon
,
'
said
Catherine
,
escaping
.
Rose
took
her
hat
off
very
leisurely
.
The
prospect
downstairs
did
not
seem
to
justify
despatch
.
She
lingered
and
thought
of
'
Lohengrin
'
and
Albani
,
of
the
crowd
of
artistic
friends
that
had
escorted
her
to
Waterloo
,
of
the
way
in
which
she
had
been
applauded
the
night
before
,
of
the
joys
of
playing
Brahms
with
a
long-haired
pupil
of
Rubinstein
's
,
who
had
dropped
on
one
knee
and
kissed
her
hand
at
the
end
of
it
,
etc.
During
the
last
six
weeks
the
colours
of
'
this
threadbare
world
'
had
been
freshening
before
her
in
marvellous
fashion
.
And
now
,
as
she
stood
looking
out
,
the
quiet
fields
opposite
,
the
sight
of
a
cow
pushing
its
head
through
the
hedge
,
the
infinite
sunset
sky
,
the
quiet
of
the
house
,
filled
her
with
a
sudden
depression
.
How
dull
it
all
seemed
—
how
wanting
in
the
glow
of
life
!
CHAPTER
XII
Meanwhile
downstairs
a
curious
little
scene
was
passing
,
watched
by
Langham
,
who
,
in
his
usual
anti-social
way
,
had
retreated
into
a
corner
of
his
own
as
soon
as
another
visitor
appeared
.
Beside
Catherine
sat
a
Ritualist
clergyman
in
cassock
and
long
cloak
—
a
saint
clearly
,
though
perhaps
,
to
judge
from
the
slight
restlessness
of
movement
that
seemed
to
quiver
through
him
perpetually
,
an
irritable
one
.
But
he
had
the
saint
's
wasted
unearthly
look
,
the
ascetic
brow
high
and
narrow
,
the
veins
showing
through
the
skin
,
and
a
personality
as
magnetic
as
it
was
strong
.
Catherine
listened
to
the
new-comer
,
and
gave
him
his
tea
,
with
an
aloofness
of
manner
which
was
not
lost
on
Langham
.
'
She
is
the
Thirty-nine
Articles
in
the
flesh
!
'
he
said
to
himself
.
'
For
her
there
must
neither
be
too
much
nor
too
little
.
How
can
Elsmere
stand
it
?
'
Elsmere
apparently
was
not
perfectly
happy
.
He
sat
balancing
his
long
person
over
the
arm
of
a
chair
listening
to
the
recital
of
some
of
the
High
Churchman
's
parish
troubles
with
a
slight
half-embarrassed
smile
.
The
vicar
of
Nottingham
was
always
in
trouble
.
The
narrative
he
was
pouring
out
took
shape
in
Langham
's
sarcastic
sense
as
a
sort
of
classical
epic
,
with
the
High
Churchman
as
a
new
champion
of
Christendom
,
harassed
on
all
sides
by
pagan
parishioners
,
crass
churchwardens
,
and
treacherous
bishops
.
Catherine
's
fine
face
grew
more
and
more
set
,
nay
disdainful
.
Mr.
Newcome
was
quite
blind
to
it
.
Women
never
entered
into
his
calculations
except
as
sisters
or
as
penitents
.
At
a
certain
diocesan
conference
he
had
discovered
a
sympathetic
fibre
in
the
young
rector
of
Murewell
,
which
had
been
to
the
imperious
persecuted
zealot
like
water
to
the
thirsty
.
He
had
come
to-day
,
drawn
by
the
same
quality
in
Elsmere
as
had
originally
attracted
Langham
to
the
St.
Anselm
's
undergraduate
,
and
he
sat
pouring
himself
out
with
as
much
freedom
as
if
all
his
companions
had
been
as
ready
as
he
was
to
die
for
an
alb
,
or
to
spend
half
their
days
in
piously
circumventing
a
bishop
.
But
presently
the
conversation
had
slid
,
no
one
knew
how
,
from
Nottingham
and
its
intrigues
to
London
and
its
teeming
East
.
Robert
was
leading
,
his
eye
now
on
the
apostolic-looking
priest
,
now
on
his
wife
.
Mr.
Newcome
resisted
,
but
Robert
had
his
way
.
Then
it
came
out
that
behind
these
battles
of
kites
and
crows
at
Mottringham
,
there
lay
an
heroic
period
,
when
the
pale
ascetic
had
wrestled
ten
years
with
London
poverty
,
leaving
health
and
youth
and
nerves
behind
him
in
the
mêlée
.
Robert
dragged
it
out
at
last
,
that
struggle
,
into
open
view
,
but
with
difficulty
.
The
Ritualist
may
glory
in
the
discomfiture
of
an
Erastian
bishop
—
what
Christian
dare
parade
ten
years
of
love
to
God
and
man
?
And
presently
round
Elsmere
's
lip
there
dawned
a
little
smile
of
triumph
.
Catherine
had
shaken
off
her
cold
silence
,
her
Puritan
aloofness
,
was
bending
forward
eagerly
—
listening
.
Stroke
by
stroke
,
as
the
words
and
facts
were
beguiled
from
him
,
all
that
was
futile
and
quarrelsome
in
the
sharp-featured
priest
sank
out
of
sight
;
the
face
glowed
with
inward
light
;
the
stature
of
the
man
seemed
to
rise
;
the
angel
in
him
unsheathed
its
wings
.
Suddenly
a
story
of
the
slums
that
Mr.
Newcome
was
telling
—
a
story
of
the
purest
Christian
heroism
told
in
the
simplest
way
—
came
to
an
end
,
and
Catherine
leaned
towards
him
with
a
long
quivering
breath
.
'
Oh
,
thank
you
,
thank
you
!
That
must
have
been
a
joy
,
a
privilege
!
'
Mr.
Newcome
turned
and
looked
at
her
with
surprise
.
'
Yes
,
it
was
a
privilege
,
'
he
said
slowly
—
the
story
had
been
an
account
of
the
rescue
of
a
young
country
lad
from
a
London
den
of
thieves
and
profligates
—
'
you
are
right
;
it
was
just
that
.
'
And
then
some
sensitive
inner
fibre
of
the
man
was
set
vibrating
,
and
he
would
talk
no
more
of
himself
or
his
past
,
do
what
they
would
.
So
Robert
had
hastily
to
provide
another
subject
,
and
he
fell
upon
that
of
the
squire
.
Mr.
Newcome
's
eyes
flashed
.
'
He
is
coming
back
?
I
am
sorry
for
you
,
Elsmere
.
"
Woe
is
me
that
I
am
constrained
to
dwell
with
Mesech
,
and
to
have
my
habitation
among
the
tents
of
Kedar
!
"
'
And
he
fell
back
in
his
chair
,
his
lips
tightening
,
his
thin
long
hand
lying
along
the
arm
of
it
,
answering
to
that
general
impression
of
combat
,
of
the
spiritual
athlete
,
that
hung
about
him
.
'
I
do
n't
know
,
'
said
Robert
brightly
,
as
he
leant
against
the
mantelpiece
looking
curiously
at
his
visitor
.
'
The
squire
is
a
man
of
strong
character
,
of
vast
learning
.
His
library
is
one
of
the
finest
in
England
,
and
it
is
at
my
service
.
I
am
not
concerned
with
his
opinions
.
'
'
Ah
,
I
see
,
'
said
Newcome
in
his
driest
voice
,
but
sadly
.
'
You
are
one
of
the
people
who
believe
in
what
you
call
tolerance
—
I
remember
.
'
'
Yes
,
that
is
an
impeachment
to
which
I
plead
guilty
,
'
said
Robert
,
perhaps
with
equal
dryness
;
'
and
you
—
have
your
worries
driven
you
to
throw
tolerance
overboard
?
'
Newcome
bent
forward
quickly
.
Strange
glow
and
intensity
of
the
fanatical
eyes
—
strange
beauty
of
the
wasted
persecuting
lips
!
'
Tolerance
!
'
he
said
with
irritable
vehemence
—
'
tolerance
!
Simply
another
name
for
betrayal
,
cowardice
,
desertion
—
nothing
else
.
God
,
Heaven
,
Salvation
on
the
one
side
,
the
devil
and
hell
on
the
other
—
and
one
miserable
life
,
one
wretched
sin-stained
will
,
to
win
the
battle
with
;
and
in
such
a
state
of
things
you
—
'
he
drooped
his
voice
,
throwing
out
every
word
with
a
scornful
,
sibilant
emphasis
—
'
you
would
have
us
behave
as
though
our
friends
were
our
enemies
and
our
enemies
our
friends
,
as
though
eternal
misery
were
a
bagatelle
and
our
faith
a
mere
alternative
.
I
stand
for
Christ
,
and
His
foes
are
mine
.
'
'
By
which
I
suppose
you
mean
,
'
said
Robert
quietly
,
'
that
you
would
shut
your
door
on
the
writer
of
The
Idols
of
the
Market-place
?
'
'
Certainly
.
'
And
the
priest
rose
,
his
whole
attention
concentrated
on
Robert
,
as
though
some
deeper-lying
motive
were
suddenly
brought
into
play
than
any
suggested
by
the
conversation
itself
.
'
Certainly
.
Judge
not
—
so
long
as
a
man
has
not
judged
himself
,
—
only
till
then
.
As
to
an
open
enemy
,
the
Christian
's
path
is
clear
.
We
are
but
soldiers
under
orders
.
What
business
have
we
to
be
truce-making
on
our
own
account
?
The
war
is
not
ours
,
but
God
's
!
'
Robert
's
eyes
had
kindled
.
He
was
about
to
indulge
himself
in
such
a
quick
passage
of
arms
as
all
such
natures
as
his
delight
in
,
when
his
look
travelled
past
the
gaunt
figure
of
the
Ritualist
vicar
to
his
wife
.
A
sudden
pang
smote
,
silenced
him
.
She
was
sitting
with
her
face
raised
to
Newcome
;
and
her
beautiful
gray
eyes
were
full
of
a
secret
passion
of
sympathy
.
It
was
like
the
sudden
re-emergence
of
something
repressed
,
the
satisfaction
of
something
hungry
.
Robert
moved
closer
to
her
,
and
the
colour
flushed
over
all
his
young
boyish
face
.
'
To
me
,
'
he
said
in
a
low
voice
,
his
eyes
fixed
rather
on
her
than
on
Newcome
,
'
a
clergyman
has
enough
to
do
with
those
foes
of
Christ
he
cannot
choose
but
recognise
.
There
is
no
making
truce
with
vice
or
cruelty
.
Why
should
we
complicate
our
task
and
spend
in
needless
struggle
the
energies
we
might
give
to
love
and
to
our
brother
?
'
His
wife
turned
to
him
.
There
was
trouble
in
her
look
,
then
a
swift
lovely
dawn
of
something
indescribable
.
Newcome
moved
away
with
a
gesture
that
was
half
bitterness
,
half
weariness
.
'
Wait
,
my
friend
,
'
he
said
slowly
,
'
till
you
have
watched
that
man
's
books
eating
the
very
heart
out
of
a
poor
creature
as
I
have
.
When
you
have
once
seen
Christ
robbed
of
a
soul
that
might
have
been
His
,
by
the
infidel
of
genius
,
you
will
loathe
all
this
Laodicean
cant
of
tolerance
as
I
do
!
'
There
was
an
awkward
pause
.
Langham
,
with
his
eyeglass
on
,
was
carefully
examining
the
make
of
a
carved
paper-knife
lying
near
him
.
The
strained
preoccupied
mind
of
the
High
Churchman
had
never
taken
the
smallest
account
of
his
presence
,
of
which
Robert
had
been
keenly
,
not
to
say
humorously
,
conscious
throughout
.
But
after
a
minute
or
so
the
tutor
got
up
,
strolled
forward
,
and
addressed
Robert
on
some
Oxford
topic
of
common
interest
.
Newcome
,
in
a
kind
of
dream
which
seemed
to
have
suddenly
descended
on
him
,
stood
near
them
,
his
priestly
cloak
falling
in
long
folds
about
him
,
his
ascetic
face
grave
and
rapt
.
Gradually
,
however
,
the
talk
of
the
two
men
dissipated
the
mystical
cloud
about
him
.
He
began
to
listen
,
to
catch
the
savour
of
Langham
's
modes
of
speech
,
and
of
his
languid
indifferent
personality
.
'
I
must
go
,
'
he
said
abruptly
,
after
a
minute
or
two
,
breaking
in
upon
the
friends
'
conversation
.
'
I
shall
hardly
get
home
before
dark
.
'
He
took
a
cold
punctilious
leave
of
Catherine
,
and
a
still
colder
and
slighter
leave
of
Langham
.
Elsmere
accompanied
him
to
the
gate
.
On
the
way
the
older
man
suddenly
caught
him
by
the
arm
.
'
Elsmere
,
let
me
—
I
am
the
elder
by
so
many
years
—
let
me
speak
to
you
.
My
heart
goes
out
to
you
!
'
And
the
eagle
face
softened
;
the
harsh
commanding
presence
became
enveloping
,
magnetic
.
Robert
paused
and
looked
down
upon
him
,
a
quick
light
of
foresight
in
his
eye
.
He
felt
what
was
coming
.
And
down
it
swept
upon
him
,
a
hurricane
of
words
hot
from
Newcome
's
inmost
being
,
a
protest
winged
by
the
gathered
passion
of
years
against
certain
'
dangerous
tendencies
'
the
elder
priest
discerned
in
the
younger
,
against
the
worship
of
intellect
and
science
as
such
which
appeared
in
Elsmere
's
talk
,
in
Elsmere
's
choice
of
friends
.
It
was
the
eternal
cry
of
the
mystic
of
all
ages
.
'
Scholarship
!
learning
!
'
Eyes
and
lips
flashed
into
a
vehement
scorn
.
'
You
allow
them
a
value
in
themselves
,
apart
from
the
Christian
's
test
.
It
is
the
modern
canker
,
the
modern
curse
!
Thank
God
,
my
years
in
London
burnt
it
out
of
me
!
Oh
,
my
friend
,
what
have
you
and
I
to
do
with
all
these
curious
triflings
,
which
lead
men
oftener
to
rebellion
than
to
worship
?
Is
this
a
time
for
wholesale
trust
,
for
a
maudlin
universal
sympathy
?
Nay
,
rather
a
day
of
suspicion
,
a
day
of
repression
!
—
a
time
for
trampling
on
the
lusts
of
the
mind
no
less
than
the
lusts
of
the
body
,
a
time
when
it
is
better
to
believe
than
to
know
,
to
pray
than
to
understand
!
'
Robert
was
silent
a
moment
,
and
they
stood
together
,
Newcome
's
gaze
of
fiery
appeal
fixed
upon
him
.
'
We
are
differently
made
,
you
and
I
,
'
said
the
young
rector
at
last
with
difficulty
.
'
Where
you
see
temptation
I
see
oppor
tunity
.
I
cannot
conceive
of
God
as
the
Arch-plotter
against
His
own
creation
!
'
Newcome
dropped
his
hold
abruptly
.
'
A
groundless
optimism
,
'
he
said
with
harshness
.
'
On
the
track
of
the
soul
from
birth
to
death
there
are
two
sleuth-hounds
—
Sin
and
Satan
.
Mankind
for
ever
flies
them
,
is
for
ever
vanquished
and
devoured
.
I
see
life
always
as
a
thread-like
path
between
abysses
along
which
man
creeps
'
—
and
his
gesture
illustrated
the
words
—
'
with
bleeding
hands
and
feet
towards
one
—
narrow
—
solitary
outlet
.
Woe
to
him
if
he
turn
to
the
right
hand
or
the
left
—
"
I
will
repay
,
saith
the
Lord
!
"
'
Elsmere
drew
himself
up
suddenly
;
the
words
seemed
to
him
a
blasphemy
.
Then
something
stayed
the
vehement
answer
on
his
lips
.
It
was
a
sense
of
profound
intolerable
pity
.
What
a
maimed
life
!
what
an
indomitable
soul
!
Husbandhood
,
fatherhood
,
and
all
the
sacred
education
that
flows
from
human
joy
for
ever
self-forbidden
,
and
this
grim
creed
for
recompense
!
He
caught
Newcome
's
hand
with
a
kind
of
filial
eagerness
.
'
You
are
a
perpetual
lesson
to
me
,
'
he
said
,
most
gently
.
'
When
the
world
is
too
much
with
me
,
I
think
of
you
and
am
rebuked
.
God
bless
you
!
But
I
know
myself
.
If
I
could
see
life
and
God
as
you
see
them
for
one
hour
,
I
should
cease
to
be
a
Christian
in
the
next
!
'
A
flush
of
something
like
sombre
resentment
passed
over
Newcome
's
face
.
There
is
a
tyrannical
element
in
all
fanaticism
,
an
element
which
makes
opposition
a
torment
.
He
turned
abruptly
away
,
and
Robert
was
left
alone
.
It
was
a
still
clear
evening
,
rich
in
the
languid
softness
and
balm
which
mark
the
first
approaches
of
autumn
.
Elsmere
walked
back
to
the
house
,
his
head
uplifted
to
the
sky
which
lay
beyond
the
cornfield
,
his
whole
being
wrought
into
a
passionate
protest
—
a
passionate
invocation
of
all
things
beautiful
and
strong
and
free
,
a
clinging
to
life
and
nature
as
to
something
wronged
and
outraged
.
Suddenly
his
wife
stood
beside
him
.
She
had
come
down
to
warn
him
that
it
was
late
and
that
Langham
had
gone
to
dress
;
but
she
stood
lingering
by
his
side
after
her
message
was
given
,
and
he
made
no
movement
to
go
in
.
He
turned
to
her
,
the
exaltation
gradually
dying
out
of
his
face
,
and
at
last
he
stooped
and
kissed
her
with
a
kind
of
timidity
unlike
him
.
She
clasped
both
hands
on
his
arm
and
stood
pressing
towards
him
as
though
to
make
amends
—
for
she
knew
not
what
.
Something
—
some
sharp
momentary
sense
of
difference
,
of
antagonism
,
had
hurt
that
inmost
fibre
which
is
the
conscience
of
true
passion
.
She
did
the
most
generous
,
the
most
ample
penance
for
it
as
she
stood
there
talking
to
him
of
half-indifferent
things
,
but
with
a
magic
,
a
significance
of
eye
and
voice
which
seemed
to
take
all
the
severity
from
her
beauty
and
make
her
womanhood
itself
.
At
the
evening
meal
Rose
appeared
in
pale
blue
,
and
it
seemed
to
Langham
,
fresh
from
the
absolute
seclusion
of
college
rooms
in
vacation
,
that
everything
looked
flat
and
stale
beside
her
,
beside
the
flash
of
her
white
arms
,
the
gleam
of
her
hair
,
the
confident
grace
of
every
movement
.
He
thought
her
much
too
self-conscious
and
self-satisfied
;
and
she
certainly
did
not
make
herself
agreeable
to
him
;
but
for
all
that
he
could
hardly
take
his
eyes
off
her
;
and
it
occurred
to
him
once
or
twice
to
envy
Robert
the
easy
childish
friendliness
she
showed
to
him
,
and
to
him
alone
of
the
party
.
The
lack
of
real
sympathy
between
her
and
Catherine
was
evident
to
the
stranger
at
once
—
what
,
indeed
,
could
the
two
have
in
common
?
He
saw
that
Catherine
was
constantly
on
the
point
of
blaming
,
and
Rose
constantly
on
the
point
of
rebelling
.
He
caught
the
wrinkling
of
Catherine
's
brow
as
Rose
presently
,
in
emulation
apparently
of
some
acquaintances
she
had
been
making
in
London
,
let
slip
the
names
of
some
of
her
male
friends
without
the
'
Mr
.
,
'
or
launched
into
some
bolder
affectation
than
usual
of
a
comprehensive
knowledge
of
London
society
.
The
girl
,
in
spite
of
all
her
beauty
,
and
her
fashion
,
and
the
little
studied
details
of
her
dress
,
was
in
reality
so
crude
,
so
much
of
a
child
under
it
all
,
that
it
made
her
audacities
and
assumptions
the
more
absurd
,
and
he
could
see
that
Robert
was
vastly
amused
by
them
.
But
Langham
was
not
merely
amused
by
her
.
She
was
too
beautiful
and
too
full
of
character
.
It
astonished
him
to
find
himself
afterwards
edging
over
to
the
corner
where
she
sat
with
the
rectory
cat
on
her
knee
—
an
inferior
animal
,
but
the
best
substitute
for
Chattie
available
.
So
it
was
,
however
;
and
once
in
her
neighbourhood
he
made
another
serious
effort
to
get
her
to
talk
to
him
.
The
Elsmeres
had
never
seen
him
so
conversational
.
He
dropped
his
paradoxical
melancholy
;
he
roared
as
gently
as
any
sucking
dove
;
and
Robert
,
catching
from
the
pessimist
of
St.
Anselm
's
,
as
the
evening
went
on
,
some
hesitating
commonplaces
worthy
of
a
bashful
undergraduate
on
the
subject
of
the
boats
and
Commemoration
,
had
to
beat
a
hasty
retreat
,
so
greatly
did
the
situation
tickle
his
sense
of
humour
.
But
the
tutor
made
his
various
ventures
under
a
discouraging
sense
of
failure
.
What
a
capricious
ambiguous
creature
it
was
,
how
fearless
,
how
disagreeably
alive
to
all
his
own
damaging
peculiarities
!
Never
had
he
been
so
piqued
for
years
,
and
as
he
floundered
about
trying
to
find
some
common
ground
where
he
and
she
might
be
at
ease
,
he
was
conscious
throughout
of
her
mocking
indifferent
eyes
,
which
seemed
to
be
saying
to
him
all
the
time
,
'
You
are
not
interesting
—
no
,
not
a
bit
!
You
are
tiresome
,
and
I
see
through
you
,
but
I
must
talk
to
you
,
I
suppose
,
faute
de
mieux
.
'
Long
before
the
little
party
separated
for
the
night
Langham
had
given
it
up
,
and
had
betaken
himself
to
Catherine
,
reminding
himself
with
some
sharpness
that
he
had
come
down
to
study
his
friend
's
life
,
rather
than
the
humours
of
a
provoking
girl
.
How
still
the
summer
night
was
round
the
isolated
rectory
;
how
fresh
and
spotless
were
all
the
appointments
of
the
house
;
what
a
Quaker
neatness
and
refinement
everywhere
!
He
drank
in
the
scent
of
air
and
flowers
with
which
the
rooms
were
filled
;
for
the
first
time
his
fastidious
sense
was
pleasantly
conscious
of
Catherine
's
grave
beauty
;
and
even
the
mystic
ceremonies
of
family
prayer
had
a
certain
charm
for
him
,
pagan
as
he
was
.
How
much
dignity
and
persuasiveness
it
has
still
,
he
thought
to
himself
,
this
commonplace
country
life
of
ours
,
on
its
best
sides
!
Half-past
ten
arrived
.
Rose
just
let
him
touch
her
hand
;
Catherine
gave
him
a
quiet
good-night
,
with
various
hospitable
wishes
for
his
nocturnal
comfort
,
and
the
ladies
withdrew
.
He
saw
Robert
open
the
door
for
his
wife
,
and
catch
her
thin
white
fingers
as
she
passed
him
with
all
the
secrecy
and
passion
of
a
lover
.
Then
they
plunged
into
the
study
,
he
and
Robert
,
and
smoked
their
fill
.
The
study
was
an
astonishing
medley
.
Books
,
natural
history
specimens
,
a
half-written
sermon
,
fishing-rods
,
cricket-bats
,
a
huge
medicine
cupboard
—
all
the
main
elements
of
Elsmere
's
new
existence
were
represented
there
.
In
the
drawing-room
with
his
wife
and
his
sister-in-law
he
had
been
as
much
of
a
boy
as
ever
;
here
clearly
he
was
a
man
,
very
much
in
earnest
.
What
about
?
What
did
it
all
come
to
?
Can
the
English
country
clergyman
do
much
with
his
life
and
his
energies
?
Langham
approached
the
subject
with
his
usual
scepticism
.
Robert
for
a
while
,
however
,
did
not
help
him
to
solve
it
.
He
fell
at
once
to
talking
about
the
squire
,
as
though
it
cleared
his
mind
to
talk
out
his
difficulties
even
to
so
ineffective
a
counsellor
as
Langham
.
Langham
,
indeed
,
was
but
faintly
interested
in
the
squire
's
crimes
as
a
landlord
,
but
there
was
a
certain
interest
to
be
got
out
of
the
struggle
in
Elsmere
's
mind
between
the
attractiveness
of
the
squire
,
as
one
of
the
most
difficult
and
original
personalities
of
English
letters
,
and
that
moral
condemnation
of
him
as
a
man
of
possessions
and
ordinary
human
responsibilities
with
which
the
young
reforming
rector
was
clearly
penetrated
.
So
that
,
as
long
as
he
could
smoke
under
it
,
he
was
content
to
let
his
companion
describe
to
him
Mr.
Wendover
's
connection
with
the
property
,
his
accession
to
it
in
middle
life
after
a
long
residence
in
Germany
,
his
ineffectual
attempts
to
play
the
English
country
gentleman
,
and
his
subsequent
complete
withdrawal
from
the
life
about
him
.
'
You
have
no
idea
what
a
queer
sort
of
existence
he
lives
in
that
huge
place
,
'
said
Robert
with
energy
.
'
He
is
not
unpopular
exactly
with
the
poor
down
here
.
When
they
want
to
belabour
anybody
they
lay
on
at
the
agent
,
Henslowe
.
On
the
whole
,
I
have
come
to
the
conclusion
the
poor
like
a
mystery
.
They
never
see
him
;
when
he
is
here
the
park
is
shut
up
;
the
common
report
is
that
he
walks
at
night
;
and
he
lives
alone
in
that
enormous
house
with
his
books
.
The
county
folk
have
all
quarrelled
with
him
,
or
nearly
.
It
pleases
him
to
get
a
few
of
the
humbler
people
about
,
clergy
,
professional
men
,
and
so
on
,
to
dine
with
him
sometimes
.
And
he
often
fills
the
Hall
,
I
am
told
,
with
London
people
for
a
day
or
two
.
But
otherwise
he
knows
no
one
,
and
nobody
knows
him
.
'
'
But
you
say
he
has
a
widowed
sister
?
How
does
she
relish
the
kind
of
life
?
'
'
Oh
;
by
all
accounts
,
'
said
the
rector
with
a
shrug
,
'
she
is
as
little
like
other
people
as
himself
.
A
queer
elfish
little
creature
,
they
say
,
as
fond
of
solitude
down
here
as
the
squire
,
and
full
of
hobbies
.
In
her
youth
she
was
about
the
court
.
Then
she
married
a
canon
of
Warham
,
one
of
the
popular
preachers
,
I
believe
,
of
the
day
.
There
is
a
bright
little
cousin
of
hers
,
a
certain
Lady
Helen
Varley
,
who
lives
near
here
,
and
tells
me
stories
of
her
.
She
must
be
the
most
whimsical
little
aristocrat
imaginable
.
She
liked
her
husband
apparently
,
but
she
never
got
over
leaving
London
and
the
fashionable
world
,
and
is
as
hungry
now
,
after
her
long
fast
,
for
titles
and
big-wigs
,
as
though
she
were
the
purest
parvenu
.
The
squire
of
course
makes
mock
of
her
,
and
she
has
no
influence
with
him
.
However
,
there
is
something
naïve
in
the
stories
they
tell
of
her
.
I
feel
as
if
I
might
get
on
with
her
.
But
the
squire
!
'
And
the
rector
,
having
laid
down
his
pipe
,
took
to
studying
his
boots
with
a
certain
dolefulness
.
Langham
,
however
,
who
always
treated
the
subjects
of
conversation
presented
to
him
as
an
epicure
treats
foods
,
felt
at
this
point
that
he
had
had
enough
of
the
Wendovers
,
and
started
something
else
.
'
So
you
physic
bodies
as
well
as
minds
?
'
he
said
,
pointing
to
the
medicine
cupboard
.
'
I
should
think
so
!
'
cried
Robert
,
brightening
at
once
.
'
Last
winter
I
causticked
all
the
diphtheritic
throats
in
the
place
with
my
own
hand
.
Our
parish
doctor
is
an
infirm
old
noodle
,
and
I
just
had
to
do
it
.
And
if
the
state
of
part
of
the
parish
remains
what
it
is
,
it
's
a
pleasure
I
may
promise
myself
most
years
.
But
it
sha
n't
remain
what
it
is
.
'
And
the
rector
reached
out
his
hand
again
for
his
pipe
,
and
gave
one
or
two
energetic
puffs
to
it
as
he
surveyed
his
friend
stretched
before
him
in
the
depths
of
an
armchair
.
'
I
will
make
myself
a
public
nuisance
,
but
the
people
shall
have
their
drains
!
'
'
It
seems
to
me
,
'
said
Langham
,
musing
,
'
that
in
my
youth
people
talked
about
Ruskin
;
now
they
talk
about
drains
.
'
'
And
quite
right
too
.
Dirt
and
drains
,
Catherine
says
I
have
gone
mad
upon
them
.
It
's
all
very
well
,
but
they
are
the
foundations
of
a
sound
religion
.
'
'
Dirt
,
drains
,
and
Darwin
,
'
said
Langham
meditatively
,
taking
up
Darwin
's
Earthworms
,
which
lay
on
the
study
table
beside
him
,
side
by
side
with
a
volume
of
Grant
Allen
's
Sketches
.
'
I
did
n't
know
you
cared
for
this
sort
of
thing
!
'
Robert
did
not
answer
for
a
moment
,
and
a
faint
flush
stole
into
his
face
.
'
Imagine
,
Langham
!
'
he
said
presently
,
'
I
had
never
read
even
The
Origin
of
Species
before
I
came
here
.
We
used
to
take
the
thing
half
for
granted
,
I
remember
,
at
Oxford
,
in
a
more
or
less
modified
sense
.
But
to
drive
the
mind
through
all
the
details
of
the
evidence
,
to
force
one
's
self
to
understand
the
whole
hypothesis
and
the
grounds
for
it
,
is
a
very
different
matter
.
It
is
a
revelation
.
'
'
Yes
,
'
said
Langham
;
and
could
not
forbear
adding
,
'
but
it
is
a
revelation
,
my
friend
,
that
has
not
always
been
held
to
square
with
other
revelations
.
'
In
general
these
two
kept
carefully
off
the
religious
ground
.
The
man
who
is
religious
by
nature
tends
to
keep
his
treasure
hid
from
the
man
who
is
critical
by
nature
,
and
Langham
was
much
more
interested
in
other
things
.
But
still
it
had
always
been
understood
that
each
was
free
to
say
what
he
would
.
'
There
was
a
natural
panic
,
'
said
Robert
,
throwing
back
his
head
at
the
challenge
.
'
Men
shrank
and
will
always
shrink
,
say
what
you
will
,
from
what
seems
to
touch
things
dearer
to
them
than
life
.
But
the
panic
is
passing
.
The
smoke
is
clearing
away
,
and
we
see
that
the
battle-field
is
falling
into
new
lines
.
But
the
old
truth
remains
the
same
.
Where
and
when
and
how
you
will
,
but
somewhen
and
somehow
,
God
created
the
heavens
and
the
earth
!
'
Langham
said
nothing
.
It
had
seemed
to
him
for
long
that
the
clergy
were
becoming
dangerously
ready
to
throw
the
Old
Testament
overboard
,
and
all
that
it
appeared
to
him
to
imply
was
that
men
's
logical
sense
is
easily
benumbed
where
their
hearts
are
concerned
.
'
Not
that
every
one
need
be
troubled
with
the
new
facts
,
'
resumed
Robert
after
a
while
,
going
back
to
his
pipe
.
'
Why
should
they
?
We
are
not
saved
by
Darwinism
.
I
should
never
press
them
on
my
wife
,
for
instance
,
with
all
her
clearness
and
courage
of
mind
.
'
His
voice
altered
as
he
mentioned
his
wife
—
grew
extraordinarily
soft
,
even
reverential
.
'
It
would
distress
her
?
'
said
Langham
interrogatively
,
and
inwardly
conscious
of
pursuing
investigations
begun
a
year
before
.
'
Yes
,
it
would
distress
her
.
She
holds
the
old
ideas
as
she
was
taught
them
.
It
is
all
beautiful
to
her
,
what
may
seem
doubtful
or
grotesque
to
others
.
And
why
should
I
or
any
one
else
trouble
her
?
I
above
all
,
who
am
not
fit
to
tie
her
shoe-strings
.
'
The
young
husband
's
face
seemed
to
gleam
in
the
dim
light
which
fell
upon
it
.
Langham
involuntarily
put
up
his
hand
in
silence
and
touched
his
sleeve
.
Robert
gave
him
a
quiet
friendly
look
,
and
the
two
men
instantly
plunged
into
some
quite
trivial
and
commonplace
subject
.
Langham
entered
his
room
that
night
with
a
renewed
sense
of
pleasure
in
the
country
quiet
,
the
peaceful
flower-scented
house
.
Catherine
,
who
was
an
admirable
housewife
,
had
put
out
her
best
guest-sheets
for
his
benefit
,
and
the
tutor
,
accustomed
for
long
years
to
the
second-best
of
college
service
,
looked
at
their
shining
surfaces
and
frilled
edges
,
at
the
freshly
matted
floor
,
at
the
flowers
on
the
dressing-table
,
at
the
spotlessness
of
everything
in
the
room
,
with
a
distinct
sense
that
matrimony
had
its
advantages
.
He
had
come
down
to
visit
the
Elsmeres
,
sustained
by
a
considerable
sense
of
virtue
.
He
still
loved
Elsmere
and
cared
to
see
him
.
It
was
a
much
colder
love
,
no
doubt
,
than
that
which
he
had
given
to
the
undergraduate
.
But
the
man
altogether
was
a
colder
creature
,
who
for
years
had
been
drawing
in
tentacle
after
tentacle
,
and
becoming
more
and
more
content
to
live
without
his
kind
.
Robert
's
parsonage
,
however
,
and
Robert
's
wife
had
no
attractions
for
him
;
and
it
was
with
an
effort
that
he
had
made
up
his
mind
to
accept
the
invitation
which
Catherine
had
made
an
effort
to
write
.
And
,
after
all
,
the
experience
promised
to
be
pleasant
.
His
fastidious
love
for
the
quieter
,
subtler
sorts
of
beauty
was
touched
by
the
Elsmere
surroundings
.
And
whatever
Miss
Leyburn
might
be
,
she
was
not
commonplace
.
The
demon
of
convention
had
no
large
part
in
her
!
Langham
lay
awake
for
a
time
analysing
his
impressions
of
her
with
some
gusto
,
and
meditating
,
with
a
whimsical
candour
which
seldom
tailed
him
,
on
the
manner
in
which
she
had
trampled
on
him
,
and
the
reasons
why
.
He
woke
up
,
however
,
in
a
totally
different
frame
of
mind
.
He
was
pre-eminently
a
person
of
moods
,
dependent
,
probably
,
as
all
moods
are
,
on
certain
obscure
physical
variations
.
And
his
mental
temperature
had
run
down
in
the
night
.
The
house
,
the
people
who
had
been
fresh
and
interesting
to
him
twelve
hours
before
,
were
now
the
burden
he
had
more
than
half
expected
them
to
be
.
He
lay
and
thought
of
the
unbroken
solitude
of
his
college
rooms
,
of
Senancour
's
flight
from
human
kind
,
of
the
uselessness
of
all
friendship
,
the
absurdity
of
all
effort
,
and
could
hardly
persuade
himself
to
get
up
and
face
a
futile
world
,
which
had
,
moreover
,
the
enormous
disadvantage
for
the
moment
of
being
a
new
one
.
Convention
,
however
,
is
master
even
of
an
Obermann
.
That
prototype
of
all
the
disillusioned
had
to
cut
himself
adrift
from
the
society
of
the
eagles
on
the
Dent
du
Midi
,
to
go
and
hang
like
any
other
ridiculous
mortal
on
the
Paris
law-courts
.
Langham
,
whether
he
liked
it
or
no
,
had
to
face
the
parsonic
breakfast
and
the
parsonic
day
.
He
had
just
finished
dressing
when
the
sound
of
a
girl
's
voice
drew
him
to
the
window
,
which
was
open
.
In
the
garden
stood
Rose
,
on
the
edge
of
the
sunk
fence
dividing
the
rectory
domain
from
the
cornfield
.
She
was
stooping
forward
playing
with
Robert
's
Dandie
Dinmont
.
In
one
hand
she
held
a
mass
of
poppies
,
which
showed
a
vivid
scarlet
against
her
blue
dress
;
the
other
was
stretched
out
seductively
to
the
dog
leaping
round
her
.
A
crystal
buckle
flashed
at
her
waist
;
the
sunshine
caught
the
curls
of
auburn
hair
,
the
pink
cheek
,
the
white
moving
hand
,
the
lace
ruffles
at
her
throat
and
wrist
.
The
lithe
glittering
figure
stood
thrown
out
against
the
heavy
woods
behind
,
the
gold
of
the
cornfield
,
the
blues
of
the
distance
.
All
the
gaiety
and
colour
which
is
as
truly
representative
of
autumn
as
the
gray
languor
of
a
September
mist
had
passed
into
it
.
Langham
stood
and
watched
,
hidden
,
as
he
thought
,
by
the
curtain
,
till
a
gust
of
wind
shook
the
casement
window
beside
him
,
and
threatened
to
blow
it
in
upon
him
.
He
put
out
his
hand
perforce
to
save
it
,
and
the
slight
noise
caught
Rose
's
ear
.
She
looked
up
;
her
smile
vanished
.
'
Go
down
,
Dandie
,
'
she
said
severely
,
and
walked
quickly
into
the
house
with
as
much
dignity
as
nineteen
is
capable
of
.
At
breakfast
the
Elsmeres
found
their
guest
a
difficulty
.
But
they
also
,
as
we
know
,
had
expected
it
.
He
was
languor
itself
;
none
of
their
conversational
efforts
succeeded
;
and
Rose
,
studying
him
out
of
the
corners
of
her
eyes
,
felt
that
it
would
be
of
no
use
even
to
torment
so
strange
and
impenetrable
a
being
.
Why
on
earth
should
people
come
and
visit
their
friends
if
they
could
not
keep
up
even
the
ordinary
decent
pretences
of
society
?
Robert
had
to
go
off
to
some
clerical
business
afterwards
,
and
Langham
wandered
out
into
the
garden
by
himself
.
As
he
thought
of
his
Greek
texts
and
his
untenanted
Oxford
rooms
,
he
had
the
same
sort
of
craving
that
an
opium-eater
has
cut
off
from
his
drugs
.
How
was
he
to
get
through
?
Presently
he
walked
back
into
the
study
,
secured
an
armful
of
volumes
,
and
carried
them
out
.
True
to
himself
in
the
smallest
things
,
he
could
never
in
his
life
be
content
with
the
companionship
of
one
book
.
To
cut
off
the
possibility
of
choice
and
change
in
anything
whatever
was
repugnant
to
him
.
He
sat
himself
down
under
the
shade
of
a
great
chestnut
near
the
house
,
and
an
hour
glided
pleasantly
away
.
As
it
happened
,
however
,
he
did
not
open
one
of
the
books
he
had
brought
with
him
.
A
thought
had
struck
him
as
he
sat
down
,
and
he
went
groping
in
his
pockets
in
search
of
a
yellow-covered
brochure
,
which
,
when
found
,
proved
to
be
a
new
play
by
Dumas
,
just
about
to
be
produced
by
a
French
company
in
London
.
Langham
,
whose
passion
for
the
French
theatre
supplied
him
,
as
we
know
,
with
a
great
deal
of
life
without
the
trouble
of
living
,
was
going
to
see
it
,
and
always
made
a
point
of
reading
the
piece
beforehand
.
The
play
turned
upon
a
typical
French
situation
,
treated
in
a
manner
rather
more
French
than
usual
.
The
reader
shrugged
his
shoulders
a
good
deal
as
he
read
on
.
'
Strange
nation
!
'
he
muttered
to
himself
after
an
act
or
two
.
'
How
they
do
revel
in
mud
!
'
Presently
,
just
as
the
fifth
act
was
beginning
to
get
hold
of
him
with
that
force
which
,
after
all
,
only
a
French
playwright
is
master
of
,
he
looked
up
and
saw
the
two
sisters
coming
round
the
corner
of
the
house
from
the
great
kitchen
garden
,
which
stretched
its
grass
paths
and
tangled
flower-masses
down
the
further
slope
of
the
hill
.
The
transition
was
sharp
from
Dumas
's
heated
atmosphere
of
passion
and
crime
to
the
quiet
English
rectory
,
its
rural
surroundings
,
and
the
figures
of
the
two
Englishwomen
advancing
towards
him
.
Catherine
was
in
a
loose
white
dress
with
a
black
lace
scarf
draped
about
her
head
and
form
.
Her
look
hardly
suggested
youth
,
and
there
was
certainly
no
touch
of
age
in
it
.
Ripeness
,
maturity
,
serenity
—
these
were
the
chief
ideas
which
seemed
to
rise
in
the
mind
at
sight
of
her
.
'
Are
you
amusing
yourself
,
Mr.
Langham
?
'
she
said
,
stopping
beside
him
and
retaining
with
slight
imperceptible
force
Rose
's
hand
,
which
threatened
to
slip
away
.
'
Very
much
.
I
have
been
skimming
through
a
play
,
which
I
hope
to
see
next
week
,
by
way
of
preparation
.
'
Rose
turned
involuntarily
.
Not
wishing
to
discuss
Marianne
with
either
Catherine
or
her
sister
,
Langham
had
just
closed
the
book
and
was
returning
it
to
his
pocket
.
But
she
had
caught
sight
of
it
.
'
You
are
reading
Marianne
,
'
she
exclaimed
,
the
slightest
possible
touch
of
wonder
in
her
tone
.
'
Yes
,
it
is
Marianne
,
'
said
Langham
,
surprised
in
his
turn
.
He
had
very
old-fashioned
notions
about
the
limits
of
a
girl
's
acquaintance
with
the
world
,
knowing
nothing
,
therefore
,
as
may
be
supposed
,
about
the
modern
young
woman
,
and
he
was
a
trifle
scandalised
by
Rose
's
accent
of
knowledge
.
'
I
read
it
last
week
,
'
she
said
carelessly
;
'
and
the
Piersons
'
—
turning
to
her
sister
—
'
have
promised
to
take
me
to
see
it
next
winter
if
Desforêts
comes
again
,
as
every
one
expects
.
'
'
Who
wrote
it
?
'
asked
Catherine
innocently
.
The
theatre
not
only
gave
her
little
pleasure
,
but
wounded
in
her
a
hundred
deep
unconquerable
instincts
.
But
she
had
long
ago
given
up
in
despair
the
hope
of
protesting
against
Rose
's
dramatic
instincts
with
success
.
'
Dumas
fils
,
'
said
Langham
drily
.
He
was
distinctly
a
good
deal
astonished
.
Rose
looked
at
him
,
and
something
brought
a
sudden
flame
into
her
cheek
.
'
It
is
one
of
the
best
of
his
,
'
she
said
defiantly
.
'
I
have
read
a
good
many
others
.
Mrs.
Pierson
lent
me
a
volume
.
And
when
I
was
introduced
to
Madame
Desforêts
last
week
,
she
agreed
with
me
that
Marianne
is
nearly
the
best
of
all
.
'
All
this
,
of
course
,
with
the
delicate
nose
well
in
air
.
'
You
were
introduced
to
Madame
Desforêts
?
'
cried
Langham
,
surprised
this
time
quite
out
of
discretion
.
Catherine
looked
at
him
with
anxiety
.
The
reputation
of
the
black-eyed
little
French
actress
,
who
had
been
for
a
year
or
two
the
idol
of
the
theatrical
public
of
Paris
and
London
,
had
reached
even
to
her
,
and
the
tone
of
Langham
's
exclamation
struck
her
painfully
.
'
I
was
,
'
said
Rose
proudly
.
'
Other
people
may
think
it
a
disgrace
.
I
thought
it
an
honour
!
'
Langham
could
not
help
smiling
,
the
girl
's
naïveté
was
so
evident
.
It
was
clear
that
,
if
she
had
read
Marianne
,
she
had
never
understood
it
.
'
Rose
,
you
do
n't
know
!
'
exclaimed
Catherine
,
turning
to
her
sister
with
a
sudden
trouble
in
her
eyes
.
'
I
do
n't
think
Mrs.
Pierson
ought
to
have
done
that
,
without
consulting
mamma
especially
.
'
'
Why
not
?
'
cried
Rose
vehemently
.
Her
face
was
burning
,
and
her
heart
was
full
of
something
like
hatred
of
Langham
,
but
she
tried
hard
to
be
calm
.
'
I
think
,
'
she
said
,
with
a
desperate
attempt
at
crushing
dignity
,
'
that
the
way
in
which
all
sorts
of
stories
are
believed
against
a
woman
,
just
because
she
is
an
actress
,
is
disgraceful
!
Just
because
a
woman
is
on
the
stage
,
everybody
thinks
they
may
throw
stones
at
her
.
I
know
,
because
—
because
she
told
me
,
'
cried
the
speaker
,
growing
,
however
,
half
embarrassed
as
she
spoke
,
'
that
she
feels
the
things
that
are
said
of
her
deeply
!
She
has
been
ill
,
very
ill
,
and
one
of
her
friends
said
to
me
,
"
You
know
it
is
n't
her
work
,
or
a
cold
,
or
anything
else
that
's
made
her
ill
—
it
's
calumny
!
"
And
so
it
is
.
'
The
speaker
flashed
an
angry
glance
at
Langham
.
She
was
sitting
on
the
arm
of
the
cane
chair
into
which
Catherine
had
fallen
,
one
hand
grasping
the
back
of
the
chair
for
support
,
one
pointed
foot
beating
the
ground
restlessly
in
front
of
her
,
her
small
full
mouth
pursed
indignantly
,
the
greenish-gray
eyes
flashing
and
brilliant
.
As
for
Langham
,
the
cynic
within
him
was
on
the
point
of
uncontrollable
laughter
.
Madame
Desforêts
complaining
of
calumny
to
this
little
Westmoreland
maiden
!
But
his
eyes
involuntarily
met
Catherine
's
,
and
the
expression
of
both
fused
into
a
common
wonderment
—
amused
on
his
side
,
anxious
on
hers
.
'
What
a
child
,
what
an
infant
it
is
!
'
they
seemed
to
confide
to
one
another
.
Catherine
laid
her
hand
softly
on
Rose
's
,
and
was
about
to
say
something
soothing
,
which
might
secure
her
an
opening
for
some
sisterly
advice
later
on
,
when
there
was
a
sound
of
calling
from
the
gate
.
She
looked
up
and
saw
Robert
waving
to
her
.
Evidently
he
had
just
run
up
from
the
school
to
deliver
a
message
.
She
hurried
across
the
drive
to
him
and
afterwards
into
the
house
,
while
he
disappeared
.
Rose
got
up
from
her
perch
on
the
armchair
and
would
have
followed
,
but
a
movement
of
obstinacy
or
Quixotic
wrath
,
or
both
,
detained
her
.
'
At
any
rate
,
Mr.
Langham
,
'
she
said
,
drawing
herself
up
,
and
speaking
with
the
most
lofty
accent
,
'
if
you
do
n't
know
anything
personally
about
Madame
Desforêts
,
I
think
it
would
be
much
fairer
to
say
nothing
—
and
not
to
assume
at
once
that
all
you
hear
is
true
!
'
Langham
had
rarely
felt
more
awkward
than
he
did
then
,
as
he
sat
leaning
forward
under
the
tree
,
this
slim
indignant
creature
standing
over
him
,
and
his
consciousness
about
equally
divided
between
a
sense
of
her
absurdity
and
a
sense
of
her
prettiness
.
'
You
are
an
advocate
worth
having
,
Miss
Leyburn
,
'
he
said
at
last
,
an
enigmatical
smile
he
could
not
restrain
playing
about
his
mouth
.
'
I
could
not
argue
with
you
;
I
had
better
not
try
.
'
Rose
looked
at
him
,
at
his
dark
regular
face
,
at
the
black
eyes
which
were
much
vivider
than
usual
,
perhaps
because
they
could
not
help
reflecting
some
of
the
irrepressible
memories
of
Madame
Desforêts
and
her
causes
célèbres
which
were
coursing
through
the
brain
behind
them
,
and
with
a
momentary
impression
of
rawness
,
defeat
,
and
yet
involuntary
attraction
,
which
galled
her
intolerably
,
she
turned
away
and
left
him
.
In
the
afternoon
Robert
was
still
unavailable
,
to
his
own
great
chagrin
,
and
Langham
summoned
up
all
his
resignation
and
walked
with
the
ladies
.
The
general
impression
left
upon
his
mind
by
the
performance
was
,
first
,
that
the
dust
of
an
English
August
is
intolerable
,
and
,
secondly
,
that
