them!
It
will
be
a
dreadful
memory
to
face
by-and-by
;
but
for
the
moment
there
is
no
room
for
any
other
question
but
the
one
—
"
Will
he
be
there
?
"
Before
she
reaches
their
trysting
bench
it
is
answered
.
She
comes
upon
him
so
suddenly
,
that
she
has
no
time
to
tone
down
her
pace
to
a
decent
saunter
.
He
has
seen
the
speed
with
which
she
was
hasting
towards
him
;
her
breathlessness
,
her
pallor
,
the
desperate
anxiety
of
her
eyes
.
There
is
no
use
in
shamming
to-day
.
But
,
indeed
,
his
own
condition
leaves
him
no
right
to
criticize
hers
.
Perhaps
he
is
in
even
worse
case
than
she
;
for
she
can
speak
,
and
he
cannot
.
"
You
are
not
gone
!
"
she
says
with
a
gasp
,
such
as
one
might
give
whose
reprieve
met
him
at
the
scaffold-foot
.
"
I
thought
you
would
be
gone
!
"
For
answer
,
he
grips
her
two
hands
in
his
(
never
before
in
all
his
life
has
he
been
master
,
and
for
how
few
poor
minutes
,
but
of
one
)
,
and
looks
at
her
with
a
white
fixity
of
passion
,
to
whose
relief
no
words
come
.
Even
when
they
are
both
seated
on
their
bench
—
neither
ever
quite
knows
how
they
reached
it
—
it
is
still
she
who
speaks
;
nor
when
she
does
so
,
is
it
to
ask
him
to
release
her
hands
.
Perhaps
in
her
agitation
she
is
not
aware
that
they
are
still
in
his
keeping
.
"
It
was
Miss
Watson
!
"
she
says
,
with
that
gasping
staccato
utterance
,
as
of
one
who
,
after
long
running
,
has
not
yet
recovered
his
wind
.
"
She
came
—
she
stayed
four
hours
.
She
had
seen
you
!
"
He
nods
his
head
in
acquiescence
.
"
Yes
.
"
He
is
plainly
incapable
of
anything
beyound
a
monosyllable
.
"
She
asked
why
you
came
here
,
"
says
Belinda
;
the
words
fluttering
out
on
greatly
quickened
breath
,
but
still
with
more
coherence
.
"
Yes
?
"
One
would
say
that
he
were
scarcely
attending
,
so
distant
and
dreamful
is
his
voice
.
He
is
conscious
of
nothing
but
the
warmth
of
those
wonderful
sweet
hands
lying
in
his
.
If
he
could
realize
Miss
Watson
at
all
,
it
would
probably
be
with
gratitude
;
for
it
is
she
virtually
who
has
given
them
to
him
.
"
She
said
,
"
continues
Belinda
,
trembling
exceedingly
,
and
looking
guiltily
down
on
their
locked
hands
,
"
that
you
must
come
here
for
some
intrigue
.
"
She
pauses
,
and
then
adds
in
a
whisper
,
"
She
must
not
say
that
again
.
"
He
is
attending
now
.
There
is
a
significance
both
in
her
look
and
in
her
low
words
that
cannot
escape
him
.
"
What
do
you
mean
?
"
he
says
thickly
.
"
I
mean
,
"
she
says
,
still
scarcely
above
a
whisper
,
"
that
you
must
not
come
here
again
.
"
She
looks
away
from
him
as
she
says
it
,
unwilling
,
perhaps
,
to
see
the
immense
consternation
that
her
fiat
will
have
brought
into
his
face
;
but
he
observes
for
so
long
a
dead
silence
,
that
she
grows
uneasy
.
Has
her
blow
killed
him
?
or
is
it
possible
(
this
latter
suggestion
is
a
scarcely
less
bitter
one
than
the
former
)
that
he
already
acquiesces
?
She
is
just
making
up
her
mind
to
steal
a
glance
at
him
,
when
he
speaks
,
and
the
tone
of
his
voice
tells
her
that
her
first
idea
of
his
case
was
nearer
the
mark
than
her
last
.
"
I
am
not
to
come
here
again
?
"
"
No
,
I
think
not
;
no
!
"
"
I
am
not
to
come
to
Oxbridge
again
?
"
"
No.
"
"
I
am
not
to
meet
you
again
?
"
"
No.
"
"
Not
anywhere
?
"
She
bows
her
head
,
unable
to
speak
.
"
Never
?
"
She
repeats
the
gesture
.
There
is
such
a
rising
strain
of
unbelieving
agony
in
his
voice
,
culminating
in
his
last
words
,
that
speech
has
wholly
forsaken
her
.
"
We
are
to
live
out
the
rest
of
our
lives
without
each
other
?
"
Again
that
acquiescent
motion
of
the
head
.
"
And
you
can
bear
it
?
—
of
course
,
"
correcting
himself
,
with
a
bitter
humility
,
"
why
should
not
you
?
it
is
not
much
for
you
to
bear
.
Well
,
then
,
I
suppose
I
must
bear
it
too
!
"
He
has
let
go
her
hands
,
and
covered
his
face
with
his
own
.
She
is
free
to
depart
.
He
has
always
obeyed
her
;
and
he
is
obeying
her
now
.
What
is
there
to
keep
her
?
And
yet
she
does
not
stir
.
Her
aching
eyes
stare
vacantly
down
the
long
straight
alley
.
Sweet
green
walk
!
Dear
solemn
tower
!
Kind
chattering
birds
!
Good-bye
!
for
never
,
never
can
she
bear
to
look
upon
any
of
you
again
!
She
stirs
restlessly
in
her
misery
;
and
in
an
instant
he
has
dropped
his
shrouding
hands
,
and
is
looking
at
her
with
a
haggard
apprehension
in
his
eyes
.
"
Are
you
going
now
?
"
"
Not
at
once
—
not
this
moment
,
"
she
answers
faintly
;
"
there
is
no
hurry
.
I
can
stay
as
long
as
usual
,
if
you
wish
.
"
If
he
wishes
!
He
laughs
outright
in
his
pain
.
There
is
a
long
,
long
silence
.
St.
Bridget
's
is
even
emptier
than
its
wont
.
Not
one
visitor
besides
themselves
breaks
its
entire
seclusion
.
Only
the
grave
tower-clock
deals
out
time
's
little
parcels
.
She
speaks
first
.
"
I
do
not
want
you
to
be
unhappy
,
"
she
says
,
with
a
sort
of
sob
of
compassion
for
his
spoilt
youth
.
"
I
should
like
you
to
be
happy
.
"
"
So
should
I
.
Will
you
show
me
how
?
"
"
Oh
,
if
I
could
!
"
she
cries
,
in
a
heart-wrung
accent
.
"
Oh
,
if
we
could
but
be
as
we
were
before
—
"
She
stops
.
"
Before
Wesenstein
?
"
he
says
.
The
word
seems
to
have
roused
him
out
of
his
lethargy
of
wretchedness
.
Ere
she
knows
it
,
he
has
won
back
her
hands
;
and
before
the
strangeness
of
his
eyes
her
own
waver
.
"
We
might
almost
fancy
ourselves
at
Wesenstein
,
might
not
we
?
"
he
says
,
with
a
thrilling
feverish
smile
;
"
it
was
a
green
,
quiet
,
woody
place
like
this
.
Do
you
remember
it
well
?
It
is
odd
that
we
have
never
talked
of
it
since
—
is
not
it
?
Why
should
not
we
talk
of
it
now
?
You
sat
on
the
grass
,
and
I
lay
at
your
feet
!
Do
you
recollect
?
Yes
"
(
with
a
heart-rending
inflection
)
,
"
I
see
that
you
do
.
You
gave
me
your
hand
!
No
!
my
Ice
Queen
,
you
would
never
have
given
it
me
!
I
took
it
and
kissed
it
;
shall
I
show
you
where
I
kissed
it
?
Just
there
—
and
there
—
and
there
!
"
(
passionately
fastening
his
lips
upon
palm
and
fingers
)
;
"
and
then
—
then
I
took
you
in
my
arms
!
Can
you
believe
it
?
—
and
yet
I
am
speaking
truth
—
once
I
had
you
in
my
arms
,
and
I
let
you
go
!
—
I
let
you
go
!
Would
to
God
"
(
with
a
terrible
burst
of
agony
)
"
that
I
had
been
struck
dead
there
before
I
let
you
go
!
"
The
storm
of
his
passion
has
carried
her
away
.
"
Would
to
God
you
had
!
"
she
says
,
frenziedly
;
and
so
unresisting
—
nay
,
passionately
complying
—
she
gives
him
that
two
years
and
a
half
ago
foregone
kiss
.
One
kiss
!
That
is
all
.
One
drunk
,
oblivious
moment
,
and
then
the
awaking
!
She
,
but
now
so
consentingly
embraced
,
has
wrenched
herself
out
of
his
arms
.
"
What
—
has
—
happened
—
to
—
us
?
"
she
says
,
staggering
away
from
him
.
But
he
awakens
slowlier
than
she
.
"
You
have
owed
it
me
,
since
Wesenstein
!
"
he
cries
wildly
,
and
with
a
sort
of
triumph
.
And
there
is
silence
.
If
indeed
the
loud
blood
dinning
in
their
ears
and
hammering
their
temples
can
be
so
called
.
"
I
suppose
,
"
she
says
,
after
a
while
,
speaking
as
if
speech
were
a
new
weapon
,
and
she
ill
at
handling
it
,
"
that
—
it
—
has
been
—
coming
to
this
—
all
along
—
only
—
I
did
not
—
see
it
.
I
suppose
that
no
one
would
believe
me
—
but
I
did
not
see
it
;
did
you
?
"
He
makes
no
answer
.
He
is
still
lapped
in
the
Elysium
of
that
long-promised
and
at
last
fulfilled
embrace
.
"
Is
it
possible
,
"
she
says
,
looking
piercingly
at
him
,
and
with
a
sombre
reproach
in
her
voice
,
"
that
you
saw
all
along
—
you
knew
—
you
thought
—
"
"
I
thought
nothing
!
"
he
cries
,
brought
back
to
his
senses
by
the
sternness
of
her
tone
.
"
Oh
,
my
dear
,
do
you
think
so
ill
of
me
as
to
suppose
that
I
was
willingly
leading
you
on
?
I
tell
you
,
I
thought
nothing
!
I
only
knew
,
that
for
two
hours
in
every
fortnight
you
allowed
me
to
live
!
you
let
me
into
the
heaven
of
your
sweet
company
!
—
was
not
that
enough
for
me
?
Was
I
likely
to
look
beyond
?
"
She
has
tottered
to
the
bench
,
and
now
sits
half-crouched
in
the
corner
of
it
.
"
I
suppose
,
"
she
says
,
shaking
her
head
hopelessly
,
"
that
,
in
point
of
fact
,
we
have
both
been
living
upon
our
Sundays
.
"
Then
after
a
pause
,
with
a
sort
of
groan
,
"
Oh
,
I
thought
we
might
have
been
trusted
!
"
He
has
not
sat
down
again
,
but
stands
before
her
in
guilty
,
miserable
humility
,
waiting
for
his
doom
.
"
I
am
not
very
sorry
for
you
,
"
she
says
,
after
a
while
,
lifting
her
dull
eyes
to
his
face
.
"
You
are
mistaken
if
you
think
that
I
pity
you
very
much
.
You
have
your
work
—
often
before
now
have
I
been
jealous
of
it
,
and
of
the
hold
it
is
gaining
over
you
!
This
is
the
best
thing
that
could
have
happened
to
you
—
a
sort
of
thing
that
your
mother
would
rejoice
at
—
the
best
test
after
all
.
No
more
distractions
!
No
more
senseless
outlay
in
railway
journeys
!
it
is
almost
as
good
as
being
taken
into
partnership
!
"
She
glances
up
at
him
at
intervals
,
as
she
plants
her
stabs
,
to
see
how
much
he
can
bear
.
He
is
not
yet
at
the
end
of
his
endurance
apparently
,
for
he
still
stands
before
her
,
bent-headed
and
ash-white
,
in
motionless
patience
.
"
But
will
anyone
tell
me
,
"
she
says
,
dropping
her
arms
hopelessly
to
her
sides
,
and
looking
distractedly
upwards
,
as
if
to
win
a
response
from
that
sky
to
which
we
,
in
trouble
never
answered
,
ever
look
,
"
what
is
to
become
of
me
?
"
Her
cruelty
towards
himself
he
had
taken
like
a
man
;
but
her
self-pity
is
beyond
his
sufferance
.
"
I
will
tell
you
what
will
become
of
you
,
"
he
says
in
a
rapid
broken
whisper
,
sitting
down
again
beside
her
.
"
Will
you
let
me
tell
you
?
Are
you
listening
?
After
all
,
they
are
only
a
few
beggarly
hours
that
we
have
had
to
live
upon
:
I
do
not
know
how
we
have
subsisted
upon
such
a
pittance
for
so
long
.
What
is
there
to
prevent
us
—
why
should
not
we
—
"
"
Stop
!
"
she
cries
hoarsely
,
thrusting
out
her
spread
hands
,
and
pushing
him
away
from
her
.
"
I
know
what
you
are
going
to
say
!
I
know
it
as
well
as
if
you
had
already
said
it
.
"
The
terror
in
her
eyes
,
the
shrinking
gesture
,
have
set
him
almost
beside
himself
.
"
You
say
that
you
are
not
at
all
sorry
for
me
,
"
he
says
,
with
a
sort
of
hard
sob
,
and
I
dare
say
you
are
right
;
but
I
must
ask
you
to
—
to
—
make
a
little
allowance
for
me
!
I
am
not
in
my
right
wits
.
It
was
unmanly
of
me
—
I
had
no
right
to
shock
—
to
outrage
you
.
"
"
I
am
not
in
the
least
shocked
,
"
she
says
with
a
slow
distinctness
;
"
that
shows
,
I
suppose
,
to
what
a
depth
I
must
have
fallen
.
I
stopped
you
because
—
because
I
knew
that
if
I
let
you
finish
your
sentence
I
should
—
not
—
have
—
said
—
no
—
to
you
:
I
—
should
—
have
—
said
—
yes
.
"
She
pauses
,
unable
to
fetch
her
breath
.
And
yet
,
despite
the
confession
in
her
words
of
her
own
defeat
and
his
victory
,
something
in
her
air
holds
him
aloof
.
"
But
if
—
"
she
goes
on
presently
,
fixing
him
with
the
terrible
appeal
of
her
eyes
,
while
her
face
grows
sharp
and
thin
—
"
if
you
are
—
what
I
have
always
thought
you
—
if
I
know
you
right
,
you
—
will
—
never
—
finish
it
!
"
There
is
a
dead
dead
silence
;
she
still
holding
him
with
that
look
,
until
she
knows
that
in
her
dreary
battle
she
has
vanquished
.
"
And
now
,
"
she
says
with
a
tearless
decision
,
"
go
!
I
did
not
tell
the
truth
when
I
said
I
was
not
sorry
for
you
!
Oh
,
I
am
sorry
!
I
AM
!
There
!
go
!
—
what
is
the
use
of
crying
?
I
hate
to
see
a
man
cry
!
God
bless
you
!
God
be
with
you
!
Go
!
"
And
he
,
obedient
,
goes
.
PERIOD
IV
.
"
These
violent
delights
have
violent
ends
.
"
CHAPTER
I
.
"
Unser
Sommer
ist
nur
ein
grün-angestrichener
Winter
.
"
The
lives
of
the
Professor
,
of
Mrs.
Forth
,
of
Sarah
—
of
all
those
with
whom
we
have
had
any
concern
—
are
poorer
by
a
full
year
than
when
we
left
them
.
The
"
Fragments
of
Menander
"
have
been
given
to
the
world
;
and
as
certainly
not
less
than
three
people
have
read
them
,
they
may
be
said
to
have
been
a
success
.
So
much
so
,
at
all
events
,
as
to
encourage
the
Professor
to
delve
and
grub
in
the
entrails
of
the
Fathers
for
new
Fragments
.
For
the
present
,
however
,
he
has
to
delve
and
grub
alone
.
For
the
present
his
secretary
has
broken
down
;
for
the
present
the
pack-horse
has
sunk
down
beneath
its
pack
.
Doubtless
it
will
soon
be
set
on
its
legs
again
,
and
enabled
to
resume
it
;
but
,
for
the
present
,
its
back
is
unladen
,
and
it
is
turned
out
to
grass
.
Months
of
unlightened
,
hopeless
,
joyless
labour
!
Her
only
wonder
in
looking
back
afterwards
upon
them
is
that
they
did
not
sooner
work
their
inevitable
effect
.
Months
of
unrelenting
application
,
of
chest-contracting
bending
over
manuscript
and
proof
;
of
entire
absence
of
exercise
and
relaxation
—
for
of
her
own
will
she
has
forsworn
both
.
Thought
is
deader
,
memory
fainter
—
and
for
what
object
but
to
kill
both
does
she
now
live
?
—
in
the
exhaustion
consequent
on
overwork
.
Why
and
for
whom
should
she
spare
herself
?
She
will
go
until
she
drops
.
And
the
Professor
,
delighted
to
acquiesce
unquestioningly
in
a
metamorphosis
so
greatly
to
his
advantage
,
always
incurious
as
to
interests
that
lie
out
of
his
own
beat
,
and
with
the
professed
invalid
's
radical
incredulity
as
to
the
possibility
of
anyone
else
being
either
sick
or
weary
,
drives
his
willing
horse
merrily
along
,
until
one
fine
day
she
falls
down
between
the
shafts
.
How
glad
she
is
when
the
breakdown
comes
!
How
intensely
she
prays
that
it
may
be
the
final
one
!
But
it
is
not
so
.
By
whatever
door
Mrs.
Forth
is
to
leave
this
world
,
it
is
certainly
not
by
that
of
the
entire
derangement
of
the
nervous
system
,
for
which
attentive
doctors
unanimously
prescribe
immediate
change
,
idleness
,
pleasure
.
The
Professor
is
always
angry
with
anyone
for
being
ill
;
but
against
a
sickness
which
involves
undone
work
,
expensive
medicine
,
and
a
costly
move
,
his
indignation
is
too
deep
for
words
.
He
is
scarcely
more
angry
with
her
,
however
,
for
falling
sick
,
than
she
is
with
herself
for
recovering
.
For
as
long
as
possible
she
has
discredited
it
.
Her
physic
bottles
vex
him
hardly
more
than
do
her
returning
appetite
,
restored
slumber
,
waxing
flesh
,
and
waning
fever
,
herself
.
She
had
wished
to
die
;
and
he
,
since
she
has
turned
out
so
unhealthy
,
would
not
be
sorry
to
be
rid
of
her
.
And
so
she
lives
;
lives
to
put
him
to
the
expense
of
a
migration
to
the
English
Lakes
.
He
seems
unable
to
shake
off
the
idea
that
she
has
done
it
on
purpose
.
It
has
been
as
usual
a
wet
morning
,
and
to
the
bounds
of
the
Lowood
Hotel
on
Windermere
all
its
impatient
guests
have
been
confined
.
Now
that
afternoon
has
come
,
it
has
brought
with
it
a
sort
of
doubtful
fairness
;
more
a
cessation
of
storm
than
anything
approaching
positive
fine
weather
.
Wray
's
Castle
,
lifting
its
grey
towers
from
its
woods
exactly
opposite
,
has
come
into
sight
again
.
The
Langdale
Pikes
have
just
shaken
the
rain-clouds
off
their
notchy
crests
;
but
they
hang
poised
above
them
,
ready
at
once
to
descend
and
clip
them
.
They
have
still
fast
hold
of
Wetherlam
,
though
their
lucent
lightness
shows
that
the
sun
is
just
behind
them
,
and
will
presently
drive
his
brave
bright
car
over
their
vaporous
bodies
.
It
is
very
clear
,
from
the
high-flung
windows
of
a
sitting-room
on
the
second
floor
,
and
also
from
the
fact
of
its
being
a
sitting-room
at
all
,
firstly
that
Professor
Forth
is
not
in
it
,
and
secondly
that
it
is
not
his
.
Since
his
wife
's
sister
and
grandmother
have
thought
it
necessary
to
give
her
the
meeting
here
,
he
has
no
objection
to
her
taking
advantage
of
their
salon
,
since
he
is
quite
unequal
to
the
expense
of
providing
her
with
one
of
her
own
.
In
a
horse-hair
arm-chair
of
that
peculiar
lodging-house
build
which
pinions
the
arms
and
forces
the
head
forward
,
sits
Mrs.
Churchill
,
placidly
watching
an
unlading
coach
.
At
a
certain
somewhat
early
period
of
old
age
,
given
an
easy
temper
and
an
entire
absence
of
feeling
,
a
person
often
appears
for
a
few
years
to
stand
stationary
.
Since
we
last
saw
her
,
Mrs.
Churchill
has
stood
stationary
.
Not
one
more
has
been
added
to
the
number
of
her
few
wrinkles
,
and
her
old
dimple
still
goes
and
comes
with
her
agreeable
smile
.
On
the
sofa
,
by
right
of
her
invalidhood
,
Belinda
is
lying
,
with
a
crop
head
of
little
curls
;
and
out
of
the
window
not
occupied
by
Mrs.
Churchill
,
Sarah
is
hanging
most
of
her
body
,
alternately
watching
with
feverish
interest
,
and
looking
back
over
her
own
shoulder
to
chronicle
the
doings
of
the
family
who
occupy
the
floor
beneath
them
,
and
who
,
happily
for
her
,
have
a
balcony
upon
which
they
now
and
then
emerge
.
"
There
are
two
brothers
,
and
two
sisters
,
and
a
wife
,
"
cries
she
animatedly
.
"
I
cannot
make
out
to
whom
the
wife
belongs
;
none
of
them
seem
to
care
much
about
her
!
"
"
Perhaps
she
had
money
,
"
rejoins
Mrs.
Churchill
.
"
Dear
me
!
"
returning
to
the
contemplation
of
her
coach
,
"
what
a
load
for
those
poor
horses
,
and
how
they
are
smoking
!
"
"
They
are
all
out
on
the
balcony
now
,
"
says
Sarah
,
delighted
;
"
come
quick
,
Belinda
,
and
look
!
"
"
I
will
take
your
word
for
it
,
"
replies
Belinda
lazily
.
"
It
makes
one
quite
wretched
to
see
such
cruelty
!
"
says
Mrs.
Churchill
,
in
a
thoroughly
comfortable
voice
,
pursuing
her
own
subject
.
"
They
have
been
playing
battledore
and
shuttlecock
,
"
says
Sarah
narratively
.
"
I
wish
we
had
a
battledore
and
shuttlecock
.
"
"
Whom
would
you
expect
to
play
with
you
?
"
asks
her
grandmother
drily
;
"
the
Professor
,
or
me
?
"
"
They
have
dropped
the
shuttlecock
into
the
road
,
"
continues
Sarah
narratively
,
and
in
a
tone
of
breathless
interest
.
"
There
is
another
man
with
them
now
;
he
cannot
be
a
third
brother
;
they
are
betting
him
a
shilling
that
he
will
not
climb
over
the
balcony
and
swarm
down
the
iron
leg
to
fetch
it
.
What
a
fool
he
will
be
if
he
does
!
Surely
I
have
seen
him
before
somewhere
!
I
wish
he
would
look
up
.
Why
,
granny
!
Belinda
!
granny
!
—
it
is
—
it
must
be
—
young
Bellairs
!
"
This
time
both
obey
her
summons
;
but
whether
it
be
that
their
footsteps
make
more
noise
than
they
are
aware
of
,
or
for
whatever
other
reason
,
some
of
the
party
below
choose
this
unfortunate
moment
to
look
up
;
and
in
a
second
they
have
all
three
slunk
shamefacedly
back
again
.
"
Young
Bellairs
!
Poor
young
Bellairs
!
"
cries
Sarah
,
throwing
herself
into
a
chair
,
and
chuckling
.
"
Young
Bellairs
,
and
the
dinghey
!
do
you
remember
,
Belinda
?
"
(
It
is
not
very
likely
that
Belinda
has
forgotten
.
)
"
I
wonder
is
there
a
dinghey
here
that
I
could
take
him
out
in
?
"
says
Miss
Churchill
thoughtfully
.
"
Granny
,
are
you
aware
that
a
dinghey
only
holds
two
?
but
if
you
insist
upon
it
,
in
the
interests
of
propriety
,
we
will
squeeze
you
in
as
well
.
"
Mrs.
Churchill
laughs
.
"
I
need
not
decide
at
once
,
need
I
?
"
says
she
,
entering
into
the
joke
;
"
and
as
the
dinghey
is
not
here
,
and
the
carriage
is
,
we
may
as
well
be
setting
off
on
our
drive
.
"
"
He
will
see
me
get
in
!
"
cries
Sarah
,
skipping
to
the
glass
,
and
adjusting
her
hat
;
"
they
watch
us
quite
as
much
as
we
watch
them
.
Well
,
let
him
!
I
flatter
myself
that
I
can
get
into
a
carriage
with
any
woman
in
England
!
"
They
are
gone
(
not
,
however
,
before
Miss
Churchill
has
one
again
put
in
her
head
to
say
urgently
,
"
Mind
that
you
keep
a
good
look-out
upon
them
!
"
)
,
and
Belinda
has
the
sitting-room
and
all
the
horse-hair
chairs
to
herself
.
Perhaps
the
better
to
comply
with
her
sister
's
exhortations
,
she
abandons
the
sofa
,
and
drawing
up
her
grandmother
's
chair
yet
closer
to
the
window
,
looks
dreamily
out
on
the
lake
,
from
which
the
hotel
is
parted
only
by
the
road
,
a
quickset
hedge
,
and
a
strip
of
grass
.
Upon
the
lower
foreground
hills
opposite
—
so
dark
a
second
ago
—
what
a
nation
of
sunbeams
has
swooped
!
and
now
,
as
quickly
they
are
gone
again
,
and
only
the
lawn
that
slopes
to
the
water
has
become
dazzling-green
as
any
chrysoprase
.
If
she
had
died
as
she
wished
,
she
would
not
have
seen
that
chrysoprase-green
;
nor
the
masterless
wavelets
sucking
in
riot
in
among
the
stakes
of
the
little
pier
;
nor
the
small
white
yacht
curtseying
and
congeeing
along
over
them
.
Is
it
worth
while
to
have
kept
alive
,
in
order
to
be
looking
at
them
here
—
alone
?
What
a
noise
the
family
below
are
making
?
What
can
they
be
doing
?
Surely
they
must
be
engaged
in
some
pastime
more
violent
than
battledore
and
shuttlecock
.
They
sound
as
if
they
were
throwing
chairs
at
each
other
.
How
plainly
she
can
distinguish
Bellairs
's
voice
.
It
was
at
St.
Ursula
's
party
that
she
first
heard
that
voice
.
It
was
in
answer
to
some
sentence
addressed
to
her
by
that
voice
,
that
her
own
suddenly
broke
down
;
it
was
while
that
voice
was
still
in
her
ears
that
she
caught
sight
once
again
of
him
who
made
her
inattentive
to
all
voices
!
She
moves
uneasily
in
her
chair
.
She
wishes
that
Bellairs
had
not
come
.
What
a
sudden
spurt
of
daring
glory
on
the
stern
necks
of
the
Langdale
Pikes
!
She
can
see
their
hollow
deep
clefts
,
and
their
scattered
verdure
,
broken
through
by
green
rock-masses
.
She
discovers
a
waterfall
hanging
unmoving
on
the
mountain
flank
.
How
they
are
giving
up
their
grey
secrets
to
the
sun
!
It
is
cruel
to
be
looking
at
them
all
alone
!
to
have
to
look
now
and
for
ever
at
all
fair
sights
alone
!
She
should
be
used
to
the
thought
by
now
,
surely
.
What
is
it
that
is
giving
it
such
new
and
pricking
life
to-day
?
Is
it
Bellairs
's
voice
?
She
will
hear
it
less
,
perhaps
,
if
she
have
some
occupation
to
distract
her
.
She
takes
up
the
advertisement-sheet
of
the
Times
,
lying
near
her
,
on
the
floor
,
and
throws
her
eyes
over
the
Births
,
Deaths
,
and
Marriages
.
For
months
she
has
been
unable
to
read
the
Obituary
without
envying
every
one
of
the
dead
people
recorded
in
it
:
the
old
man
gently
extinguished
at
eighty
;
the
deeply-mourned
wife
,
torn
away
in
her
prime
;
the
strong
man
violently
perishing
in
flood
or
field
;
the
tiny
sister-children
swept
away
within
two
days
of
each
other
by
the
hot
fever
.
There
is
not
one
among
them
all
that
she
does
not
envy
!
They
are
out
of
it
!
They
have
done
with
it
!
done
with
the
tangle
,
done
with
the
heart-break
,
done
with
the
strife
!
She
envies
them
now
.
And
through
them
all
she
still
hears
plainly
the
voice
of
Bellairs
.
Thank
Heaven
,
however
,
she
will
not
hear
it
any
more
for
the
present
.
He
has
gone
out
.
Surely
that
is
he
sauntering
down
to
the
little
pier
,
with
a
smart
girl
in
a
red
cotton
gown
—
a
red
cotton
gown
that
but
now
incarnadined
the
balcony
beneath
Mrs.
Forth
.
He
is
unfastening
a
little
boat
;
he
is
helping
his
companion
in
!
Belinda
laughs
aloud
.
Some
one
has
been
too
quick
for
Sarah
!
Some
one
has
stepped
down
into
the
dinghey
before
her
!
The
incident
gives
a
lighter
turn
to
her
meditations
,
and
she
drops
the
obituary
,
and
follows
with
her
eyes
the
little
boat
and
its
two
occupants
,
with
as
eager
an
attention
as
her
sister
might
have
given
it
,
until
it
becomes
a
speck
upon
the
water
.
She
laughs
again
.
There
is
a
sound
of
wheels
.
Is
it
her
grandmother
and
Sarah
returning
?
She
longs
for
them
to
come
back
,
to
have
the
pleasure
of
telling
them
.
She
leans
her
charming
cropped
head
out
of
the
window
.
No
!
it
is
a
coach
changing
horses
;
next
a
char-à-banc
disgorging
its
stiff-legged
load
;
and
now
,
for
variety
of
interest
,
a
steamer
is
coming
churning
up
to
the
little
pier
.
Will
anyone
get
out
of
it
?
Anyone
to
form
a
new
element
at
the
table-d'hôte
to
night
,
and
be
speculated
about
as
one
speculates
upon
the
lives
and
habits
of
those
with
whom
an
hotel
life
brings
one
into
brief
and
jostling
contact
?
The
steamer
is
crowded
,
black
with
thick-packed
heads
.
But
it
seems
as
if
no
one
were
minded
to
alight
from
her
.
Yes
,
one
man
has
landed
;
a
man
now
crossing
the
pier
with
a
knapsack
on
his
back
;
a
pedestrian
tourist
,
obviously
.
Very
likely
an
Oxbridge
man
,
with
a
Plato
in
his
wallet
,
come
to
woo
philosophy
in
the
heart
of
the
hills
.
If
he
is
so
,
perhaps
she
may
know
him
—
by
sight
at
all
events
.
She
rubs
her
eyes
.
What
tricks
they
play
one
!
Do
they
see
ill
,
or
is
there
a
little
something
in
the
man
's
gait
that
might
remind
her
of
—
but
no
!
it
is
the
sight
of
Bellairs
,
and
the
memories
he
has
roused
,
that
have
put
such
an
insanity
into
her
head
.
Perhaps
sickness
has
left
her
vision
weak
and
deceptive
.
He
is
drawing
nearer
—
very
near
,
past
the
strip
of
grass
,
through
the
wicket
,
across
the
road
.
She
has
been
thrusting
her
head
out
of
window
to
have
a
nearer
view
,
and
the
better
to
correct
her
delusion
.
But
suddenly
she
draws
it
in
again
,
and
with
a
small
,
choked
cry
,
falls
back
in
the
horse-hair
chair
.
It
is
not
corrected
!
It
is
confirmed
,
and
turned
into
truth
and
certainty
.
For
a
few
moments
she
lies
stock-still
.
Has
her
face
caught
from
Wetherlam
and
the
Pikes
some
of
their
stormy
illumination
?
If
she
had
died
,
she
would
not
have
seen
him
crossing
that
pier
,
treading
that
path
,
unlatching
that
wicket-gate
!
It
has
been
hitherto
only
in
her
dreams
that
he
has
ever
walked
towards
her
.
She
is
glad
—
oh
,
glad
—
that
she
did
not
die
!
And
what
has
brought
him
hither
?
Is
it
possible
that
he
has
heard
of
her
presence
here
,
and
,
unable
any
longer
to
endure
those
torments
which
had
so
nearly
laid
her
low
,
has
fled
hither
in
madness
to
rejoin
her
?
But
in
a
second
she
has
exonnerated
him
from
the
suspicion
.
She
has
told
him
to
go
,
and
he
had
gone
;
and
she
knows
him
well
enough
to
feel
sure
that
,
without
her
bidding
—
cost
him
what
it
might
—
he
would
not
return
.
It
is
,
then
,
an
accident
!
a
happy
,
most
happy
accident
!
What
pleasant
accidents
can
and
may
happen
!
For
an
accident
no
one
can
be
blamed
.
For
an
accident
no
one
's
conscience
need
smite
them
.
All
the
consequences
of
an
accident
may
be
taken
with
an
easy
mind
.
Her
eyes
stray
away
towards
the
high
mountains
,
but
once
again
they
are
grasped
so
close
in
the
clouds
'
moist
arms
,
that
not
a
glimpse
of
crest
or
ridge
is
to
be
caught
.
Are
not
they
tired
of
their
centenary
—
nay
,
aeon-long
fight
with
the
vapours
?
Worsted
,
worsting
,
will
there
never
be
an
end
to
it
?
It
is
like
her
fight
with
her
own
heart
.
Vapours
,
sunbeams
,
waterfalls
;
to-morrow
—
to-morrow
she
will
be
looking
at
you
not
alone
.
To-morrow
!
But
will
he
be
still
here
to-morrow
?
Unless
she
give
him
leave
to
stay
(
and
how
dare
she
give
that
leave
?
)
may
not
he
be
off
before
day-dawn
?
By
the
noise
below
her
window
,
she
knows
that
another
coach
has
driven
up
,
and
is
changing
horses
.
A
panic
seizes
her
.
What
security
has
she
that
he
may
not
have
halted
here
for
only
ten
minutes
,
and
be
going
on
by
it
?
She
springs
to
her
trembling
legs
,
and
returning
to
the
window
again
,
looks
out
,
but
this
time
in
hiding
behind
the
curtain
.
Two
or
three
of
the
passengers
have
got
down
,
and
are
beginning
to
climb
back
into
their
places
again
.
Some
luggage
is
being
hauled
from
the
roof
.
She
scans
narrowly
the
crowded
travellers
,
and
then
draws
a
long
breath
.
There
is
not
one
among
them
that
bears
the
most
fugitive
resemblance
to
him
.
She
is
reprieved
.
He
will
be
here
,
at
all
events
,
till
to-morrow
.
He
will
dine
,
almost
certainly
,
at
the
table-d'hôte
.
A
hot
,
excited
smile
breaks
over
her
face
.
She
will
have
the
advantage
over
him
.
She
will
expect
to
see
him
;
and
he
will
not
expect
to
see
her
.
Will
the
shock
be
too
much
for
him
?
Will
he
be
betrayed
by
its
suddenness
into
any
too
evident
and
overt
emotion
?
But
no
!
He
is
a
man
,
now
;
strong
and
self-contained
.
How
much
older
he
has
grown
to
look
!
Even
her
one
cursory
glance
has
told
her
that
.
A
pang
of
regret
for
that
passionate
gone
boyhood
,
which
was
so
absolutely
hers
,
contracts
her
heart
.
No
!
he
will
show
no
emotion
.
Perhaps
he
will
turn
a
shade
paler
.
As
for
her
,
she
will
not
be
pale
,
neither
red
.
Her
thought
breaks
off
abruptly
,
dispersed
and
banished
by
a
knock
at
the
door
.
Ere
she
can
cry
"
Come
in
!
"
forestalling
her
permission
of
admittance
,
one
of
the
heated
and
hurried
hotel
waiters
,
chronically
rushing
from
Sunday
morning
to
Saturday
night
,
has
entered
—
has
deposited
a
note
before
her
,
and
has
disappeared
ere
she
has
time
to
put
any
question
as
to
its
source
and
origin
.
Not
that
there
is
much
need
for
such
,
although
only
twice
before
in
all
her
life
has
she
seen
that
handwriting
.
A
mixed
memory
of
the
two
former
occasions
rushes
storming
back
upon
her
mind
;
a
memory
of
the
misery
of
that
early
summer
morning
in
Dresden
;
of
the
hell
of
that
Folkestone
winter
evening
.
She
has
come
in
for
a
good
deal
of
misery
in
her
day
.
She
looks
in
procrastination
at
the
device
on
the
seal
—
it
is
sealed
—
and
at
the
address
.
Surely
his
handwriting
,
too
,
is
changed
;
more
virile
,
steadier
,
less
emotional
.
She
holds
the
note
between
her
two
palms
(
how
lately
he
has
held
it
in
his
!
)
in
a
trembling
luxury
of
delay
.
It
is
only
the
recollection
of
how
soon
,
how
immediately
,
how
at
once
,
her
solitude
may
be
put
an
end
to
by
the
return
of
her
sister
and
grandmother
,
that
at
length
decides
her
to
open
it
.
What
can
he
have
to
say
to
her
?
Not
much
,
whatever
it
is
.
It
will
not
take
her
long
to
read
.
"
I
have
just
seen
your
name
in
the
Visitors
'
Book
;
believe
me
,
it
is
by
a
pure
accident
that
I
am
here
;
must
I
go
?
If
I
do
not
see
you
at
the
table-d'hôte
I
shall
understand
that
I
must
.
"
D.R.
"
Long
after
she
has
mastered
its
contents
—
surely
not
difficult
of
comprehension
—
she
remains
staring
at
the
page
with
wide
dull
eyes
:
a
feeling
of
blankest
disappointment
at
her
heart
.
And
yet
,
had
she
expected
him
,
in
writing
,
on
a
paper
committed
to
a
careless
hand
—
a
paper
that
might
easily
go
astray
,
or
be
lost
—
to
break
out
into
compromising
,
culpable
endearments
?
She
would
be
outraged
by
the
suggestion
.
But
oh
!
it
is
cruel
,
cruel
of
him
to
have
thrust
the
weight
of
the
decision
upon
her
;
to
have
taken
their
meeting
out
of
the
province
of
accident
into
which
she
had
joyfully
recognised
it
as
having
fallen
!
Since
he
has
forced
choice
upon
her
,
there
is
but
one
way
in
which
she
can
choose
.
He
must
have
known
it
!
He
must
have
done
it
on
purpose
!
Honourable
of
him
?
Perhaps
!
Her
mind
gives
a
frigid
assent
.
But
oh
,
cold
,
cold
,
and
most
cruel
!
His
very
face
had
told
her
that
he
was
changed
.
He
has
grown
wise
at
last
.
Well
,
he
shall
never
know
that
she
was
not
as
wise
as
he
.
She
has
crumpled
the
paper
angrily
in
her
hand
,
and
begun
to
walk
agitatedly
up
and
down
the
room
,
pressing
and
kneading
it
with
her
fevered
fingers
.
Then
her
mood
changes
,
and
she
stops
and
anxiously
smooths
out
the
letter
again
.
Perhaps
she
is
wronging
him
.
Perhaps
in
the
first
stun
of
that
surprise
he
has
scarcely
known
what
he
wrote
;
has
not
perceived
the
drift
of
his
own
words
.
Perhaps
,
on
a
closer
examination
,
she
may
find
,
by
the
tremulousness
of
his
characters
,
that
he
had
not
his
wits
about
him
.
But
no.
There
is
no
tremulousness
.
Strong
and
decided
is
each
up
and
down
stroke
.
The
man
who
penned
that
note
was
obviously
in
fullest
possession
of
his
intellect
and
mastery
over
his
nerves
.
She
is
still
poring
over
the
few
matter-of-fact
words
,
vainly
trying
to
wrench
them
into
a
sense
that
they
cannot
bear
,
when
a
high
,
light
laugh
,
which
cannot
be
ascribed
to
anyone
but
Miss
Churchill
,
heard
on
the
landing
outside
,
makes
her
,
in
guilty
haste
,
thrust
the
document
into
her
pocket
.
It
is
only
just
in
time
;
for
there
is
always
a
sort
of
whirlwind
suddenness
about
Sarah
's
entries
.
"
Well
!
"
cries
she
,
in
high
excitement
,
"
have
you
kept
a
good
look-out
,
as
I
told
you
?
Has
he
discovered
that
I
am
here
?
Where
is
he
?
what
has
he
been
doing
?
"
It
is
a
proof
how
far
Mrs.
Forth
's
thoughts
have
been
straying
from
the
young
gentleman
in
question
,
that
at
first
she
looks
back
at
her
sister
in
blank
stupidity
,
not
understanding
to
what
or
whom
she
alludes
.
"
Who
?
"
she
says
thickly
;
"
what
?
—
Oh
!
"
(
with
a
forced
laugh
;
comprehension
coming
tardily
back
)
,
"
of
course
!
but
I
have
bad
news
for
you
:
he
went
out
at
once
in
a
dinghey
—
I
do
not
think
they
call
them
dingheys
here
—
but
at
all
events
in
a
little
cockboat
—
with
the
girl
in
red
.
"
"
Did
he
?
"
replies
Sarah
,
simulating
the
first
symptoms
of
a
swoon
,
and
falling
in
a
heap
upon
the
sofa
;
"
then
,
granny
,
cut
my
stay-laces
,
and
burn
every
goose-quill
you
can
find
in
the
room
under
my
nose
;
for
there
is
nothing
left
me
but
to
faint
!
"
CHAPTER
II
.
The
Professor
's
room
,
as
well
as
Belinda
's
own
,
is
at
the
top
of
the
house
.
Economy
,
as
is
well
known
,
has
to
be
sought
in
hotels
by
climbing
;
and
the
Professor
has
pursued
her
to
the
leads
.
At
their
first
coming
,
indeed
,
the
numerous
flights
of
stairs
to
be
surmounted
ere
attaining
her
sloped
roof
and
her
trucklebed
,
had
proved
a
severe
tax
upon
Mrs.
Forth
's
enfeebled
strength
;
but
use
and
returning
health
have
made
them
easy
.
At
all
events
,
Belinda
does
not
now
think
twice
about
climbing
them
,
even
if
no
absolute
necessity
prompt
the
assent
.
Is
it
absolute
necessity
that
,
half
an
hour
after
Sarah
's
return
,
finds
her
first
faintly
knocking
,
and
then
looking
uncertainly
into
her
husband
's
room
.
"
Who
is
there
?
who
is
keeping
the
door
open
,
and
creating
a
draught
?
Pray
shut
it
at
once
!
"
cries
a
crabbed
voice
from
the
interior
.
She
complies
by
entering
.
Owing
to
the
confined
space
allotted
to
him
,
the
Professor
has
to
use
some
nicety
of
management
in
the
disposition
of
his
property
—
a
disposition
which
entails
the
entire
going
to
the
wall
of
his
toilette
arrangements
.
Both
bed
and
floor
are
strewn
with
folios
and
MS.
,
which
are
piled
,
to
the
exclusion
of
basin
and
ewer
,
even
upon
the
cramped
washhand-stand
.
Upon
the
one
chair
the
occupant
of
the
attic
is
seated
:
a
fur-coat
wrapped
about
his
thin
figure
,
a
skull-cap
on
his
head
,
his
feet
aloft
upon
a
hot-water
bottle
,
a
writing-case
upon
his
meagre
knees
and
an
ink-horn
in
his
left
hand
.
"
Pray
be
careful
where
you
step
!
"
he
says
sharply
,
looking
up
and
becoming
aware
of
the
tall
,
fair
presence
that
has
enriched
his
neighbourhood
.
"
Do
not
you
see
that
you
are
treading
upon
Tertullian
?
"
She
had
not
seen
it
;
but
she
at
once
corrects
her
error
.
"
I
believe
that
I
expressed
a
wish
not
to
be
intruded
upon
this
afternoon
,
"
he
continues
,
since
she
does
not
at
once
speak
or
explain
her
entrance
;
"
owing
to
having
to
support
the
whole
weight
of
my
work
single-handed
"
(
with
a
resentful
glance
at
her
idle
and
obviously
convalescent
beauty
)
,
"
I
am
very
much
pressed
for
time
.
No
doubt
you
have
some
good
reason
to
give
for
infringing
my
injunctions
.
"
"
I
thought
that
you
might
be
surprised
if
you
did
not
see
me
at
the
table-d'hôte
,
"
replies
she
coldly
;
"
so
I
came
to
tell
you
that
I
do
not
mean
to
appear
at
it
to-night
,
and
to
ask
whether
you
have
any
objection
to
my
staying
away
?
"
"
Is
it
possible
that
you
are
threatened
with
a
return
of
indisposition
?
"
he
asks
,
with
a
sudden
,
quick
look
of
peevish
anxiety
.
She
shakes
her
head
,
smiling
suddenly
and
bitterly
.
It
is
so
apparent
that
his
solicitude
is
due
,
not
to
care
for
her
health
,
but
to
apprehension
of
a
new
doctor
's
bill
.
"
Thanks
,
no.
"
"
You
appear
to
be
unaccountably
out
of
breath
,
"
he
says
,
in
a
vexed
voice
.
"
Not
more
than
anyone
must
be
,
in
climbing
to
this
cock-loft
,
"
replies
she
sullenly
.
Perhaps
his
examination
of
her
face
has
reassured
him
as
to
her
soundness
,
for
once
more
he
dips
his
pen
into
the
ink-horn
.
"
You
have
not
answered
my
question
,
"
says
she
brusquely
,
perceiving
in
him
a
deliberate
intention
of
henceforth
ignoring
her
.
He
makes
a
gesture
of
annoyed
impatience
.
"
It
scarcely
appeared
to
me
to
require
an
answer
;
I
suppose
you
gave
notice
this
morning
to
the
manager
of
your
intention
to
be
absent
?
"
"
No
,
I
did
not
.
"
"
Then
of
course
it
is
out
of
the
question
;
according
to
the
rules
of
the
hotel
,
every
meal
not
expressly
countermanded
is
charged
for
;
and
I
am
really
not
in
a
position
to
countenance
such
irrational
waste
.
"
At
the
contempt
and
churlishness
of
his
tone
,
her
cheek
burns
.
"
It
would
be
no
waste
if
I
ordered
nothing
instead
,
"
she
answers
,
doggedly
;
"
and
I
am
more
than
willing
to
fast
.
"
"
And
incur
the
risk
of
a
relapse
?
"
cries
he
,
in
hasty
displeasure
.
"
I
must
imperatively
forbid
your
exposing
yourself
to
any
such
hazard
!
"
"
I
could
have
a
cup
of
tea
in
granny
's
sitting-room
;
I
am
sure
that
she
would
not
grudge
me
one
.
"
"
I
request
that
you
will
do
nothing
of
the
kind
,
"
rejoins
he
,
nettled
,
whether
at
his
interrupted
work
,
or
at
the
accent
,
which
she
has
taken
small
pains
to
render
slight
,
laid
by
her
upon
the
personal
pronoun
.
"
Your
grandmother
is
,
of
course
,
mistress
of
her
own
actions
;
but
since
it
is
a
well-known
fact
,
that
if
you
once
indulge
in
such
senseless
luxuries
as
a
private
sitting-room
,
and
meals
served
separately
,
the
rate
of
charges
in
your
case
is
instantly
and
exorbitantly
increased
,
I
must
beg
you
at
least
to
conform
to
the
ordinary
rules
of
the
house
.
"
He
is
so
surprised
by
the
entire
silence
in
which
she
accepts
his
fiat
,
that
he
looks
up
irritatedly
at
her
,
standing
in
sullen
,
motionless
loveliness
beside
him
;
looks
up
to
find
her
regarding
him
with
a
smile
hard
to
qualify
.
"
It
is
by
your
express
with
,
then
,
that
I
dine
,
"
she
says
,
with
a
low
emphasis
;
"
you
insist
upon
my
dining
.
"
"
I
see
no
reason
for
an
arbitrary
departure
from
your
usual
habits
,
"
replies
he
,
with
ill-humour
;
"
you
are
obviously
perfectly
restored
to
your
normal
state
of
health
;
anyone
,
"
with
a
recurrence
of
that
streak
of
resentment
,
"
would
be
surprised
now
to
learn
that
you
were
regarded
as
an
invalid
;
there
is
nothing
that
gains
upon
a
person
more
,
by
indulgence
in
them
,
than
valetudinarian
fancies
.
"
The
singular
smile
still
stays
,
as
it
were
stereotyped
upon
her
features
.
"
You
speak
from
experience
?
"
she
says
,
in
a
tone
of
quiet
insolence
.
The
colour
mounts
to
his
parched
face
.
"
You
are
implying
,
"
he
says
,
with
deliberate
anger
,
"
as
you
have
frequently
and
offensively
implied
before
,
that
I
am
a
malade
imaginaire
.
"
She
shrugs
her
shoulders
carelessly
.
"
I
do
not
think
—
I
have
never
thought
—
that
you
are
nearly
so
ill
as
you
imagine
yourself
to
be
.
"
"
Do
not
you
?
"
he
answers
.
"
Possibly
some
day
you
may
be
undeceived
.
"
There
is
such
a
pregnant
weight
of
solemn
meaning
in
his
look
and
words
,
that
,
for
a
moment
,
she
glances
at
him
,
staggered
and
half-frightened
;
he
waving
her
,
in
a
displeasure
too
deep
for
further
speech
,
to
the
door
.
But
the
impression
does
not
last
beyond
the
first
flight
of
stairs
.
"
Pooh
!
"
she
says
,
reaching
the
landing
,
"
he
will
see
us
all
out
!
"
The
table-d'hôte
bell
has
rung
,
and
,
answering
its
call
,
the
visitors
at
the
Lowood
Hotel
have
poured
into
the
large
,
light
dining-room
,
and
quickly
filled
up
the
two
long
tables
,
where
,
as
the
season
advances
to
its
height
,
elbow-room
becomes
daily
scarcer
.
The
established
visitors
have
made
their
way
to
their
habitual
places
,
and
the
new
ones
been
ushered
to
theirs
.
The
oldest
inhabitant
,
who
always
says
grace
,
has
said
it
,
and
the
landlord
is
ladling
out
the
soup
.
Belinda
is
in
her
usual
seat
,
between
her
husband
and
her
sister
.
It
is
a
situation
of
her
own
choosing
—
as
far
as
regards
her
sister
,
at
least
.
The
Professor
is
not
a
good
person
to
depend
upon
for
general
conversation
through
a
long
dinner
;
the
almost
insoluble
problem
of
how
to
obtain
his
full
pennyworth
—
how
to
eat
so
much
as
to
ensure
that
no
extortionate
profit
shall
accrue
from
him
to
the
proprietors
of
the
hotel
,
and
yet
how
to
eat
so
little
and
so
lightly
as
not
to
alarm
his
coy
and
skittish
digestion
—
keeping
him
for
the
most
part
wholly
silent
.
But
Sarah
is
royally
indifferent
as
to
what
pecuniary
advantage
may
be
derived
from
her
,
and
has
no
more
consciousness
of
digestion
than
an
emu
;
so
,
upon
her
sprightly
comments
on
their
fellow-diners
,
Belinda
has
usually
relied
to
drag
her
through
the
ennui
of
the
long
and
weary
courses
.
To-day
she
lends
them
but
an
abstracted
ear
.
Though
she
has
entered
and
taken
her
place
without
once
looking
up
,
she
yet
knows
at
once
that
for
her
the
full
room
is
empty
.
Gradually
she
allows
her
eyes
to
steal
round
a
glance
,
in
confirmation
of
that
of
which
she
is
already
sure
.
Here
are
the
forms
and
faces
that
a
week
's
fellow-eating
has
made
rather
more
familiar
to
her
than
her
own
.
Here
are
the
usual
vis-à-vis
,
the
stockbroking
family
:
jocose
red
father
,
aiming
side-hits
of
well-meant
pleasantry
at
herself
and
her
sister
;
full-blown
,
hearty
mother
;
elaborately
elegant
daughter
.
At
the
far
end
of
the
board
a
few
insignificant
novelties
.
That
is
all
!
It
is
true
that
he
may
be
placed
at
the
other
table
,
to
which
her
back
is
turned
;
but
this
,
a
guilty
consciousness
prevents
her
moving
her
head
to
ascertain
.
Were
he
there
,
however
,
it
is
certain
that
he
would
be
seen
by
Sarah
,
who
is
constantly
throwing
restless
glances
over
her
shoulder
,
in
pursuit
of
the
object
of
her
own
interest
.
"
Here
they
come
!
"
she
cries
,
jogging
her
sister
's
elbow
;
"
here
they
all
come
!
—
all
but
the
girl
in
red
!
all
but
Bellairs
!
Is
it
possible
that
they
can
be
out
in
the
dinghey
still
?
I
shall
complain
to
the
manager
!
"
Belinda
smiles
faintly
.
The
soup-plates
are
vanishing
.
It
is
evident
that
he
is
not
coming
.
Her
compromising
concession
has
been
made
in
vain
.
It
was
her
part
to
shun
him
;
and
she
has
forced
him
to
shun
her
.
Probably
she
will
never
now
have
an
opportunity
of
exculpating
herself
,
even
to
the
extent
of
making
her
lame
explanation
of
the
way
in
which
it
came
about
.
How
these
people
opposite
stare
!
She
has
begun
desperately
to
fan
herself
;
but
the
Professor
at
once
requests
her
to
stop
,
as
the
current
of
air
produced
by
her
fan
makes
him
sneeze
.
"
He
must
have
upset
her
,
and
drowned
her
!
"
says
Sarah
,
in
her
sister
's
ear
.
"
I
hope
he
has
;
it
would
serve
her
quite
right
!
—
God
bless
my
soul
!
"
This
last
ejaculation
is
uttered
in
a
key
differing
so
widely
from
the
cold-blooded
calm
of
her
former
aspirations
,
that
Belinda
gives
an
involuntary
start
—
a
start
that
may
or
may
not
be
observed
by
him
who
has
just
quietly
entered
the
room
,
and
is
having
a
reversed
chair
at
the
other
table
obsequiously
set
on
its
legs
for
him
.
"
Did
you
know
that
he
was
here
?
"
asks
Sarah
,
very
low
.
But
Belinda
does
not
answer
.
A
mad
relief
—
a
lunatic
joy
is
choking
her
throat
.
"
Did
you
?
"
repeats
the
other
urgently
;
"
is
it
possible
—
"
"
Do
you
think
that
I
sent
for
him
?
"
says
Belinda
,
in
a
suffocating
whisper
.
"
How
can
I
help
his
being
here
?
"
There
is
so
much
of
the
lion-at-bay
in
her
lightning
eyes
,
that
Sarah
wisely
desists
from
further
questioning
.
"
It
is
an
odd
coincidence
that
they
should
both
have
turned
up
again
on
the
same
day
,
"
she
says
;
her
mind
reverting
to
the
truant
Bellairs
.
Happily
for
Belinda
,
that
culprit
now
appears
on
the
scene
,
shortly
followed
by
his
companion
in
guilt
;
and
for
the
rest
of
dinner
Miss
Churchill
's
conversation
becomes
an
indignant
recitative
,
a
running
commentary
upon
their
actions
.
"
I
never
saw
such
a
brazen
pair
in
my
life
!
how
little
he
thinks
that
I
can
see
him
!
Very
odd
that
he
has
not
yet
caught
my
eye
!
Ah
!
there
,
he
sees
me
!
'
How
do
you
do
?
how
do
you
do
?
'
Extraordinary
!
he
has
not
turned
a
shade
paler
;
he
must
have
gone
to
the
devil
altogether
.
They
are
so
much
interested
:
they
are
asking
who
we
are
,
and
whether
we
are
any
relation
to
the
Duke
of
Marlborough
.
He
is
swaggering
about
us
,
and
promising
to
introduce
us
after
dinner
.
If
he
dares
!
"
Belinda
is
well
content
to
allow
the
stream
of
soliloquy
beside
her
to
flow
on
unchecked
.
A
silent
husband
—
ever
tussling
with
his
economico-sanitary
problem
;
a
self-absorbed
sister
;
what
better
neighbours
could
she
wish
for
?
Even
the
family
opposite
,
whose
notice
had
before
annoyed
her
,
immersed
in
good
cheer
,
have
forgotten
her
.
She
can
lean
back
unnoticed
,
and
sun
herself
in
the
feeling
—
not
recognised
nor
formulated
enough
to
constitute
a
relfection
—
that
though
he
is
lost
to
her
sight
,
so
is
she
assuredly
not
to
his
.
He
is
probably
wondering
why
her
hair
is
cut
short
.
Does
he
think
it
an
improvement
?
Possibly
it
may
appear
to
him
in
a
high
degree
disfiguring
.
It
is
the
first
time
that
the
question
of
the
becomingness
or
unbecomingness
of
her
crop-head
has
presented
itself
to
Mrs.
Forth
's
mind
.
She
is
not
one
of
those
happy
women
whose
beauty
is
per
se
,
and
to
themselves
as
good
,
for
pleasure
and
profit
,
as
an
estate
in
the
Three
per
Cents
.
She
has
never
cared
for
it
except
as
it
affected
him
.
Is
she
much
disfigured
?
She
lifts
one
hand
and
passes
it
over
her
shining
tendrils
,
as
if
to
obtain
an
answer
by
touch
.
In
so
doing
,
and
in
consequence
of
the
small
space
allotted
to
each
diner
,
her
lifted
elbow
comes
into
momentary
contact
with
her
husband
's
sleeve
.
"
I
beg
your
pardon
!
"
she
says
,
starting
.
No
galvanic
shock
sent
with
uncomfortable
sense
of
dislocation
along
bone
and
joint
could
have
brought
her
down
more
suddenly
from
that
vision-world
through
which
,
happy
and
crop-headed
,
she
has
,
during
three
courses
,
been
walking
.
"
You
eat
nothing
!
"
says
the
Professor
,
glancing
upbraidingly
at
her
empty
plate
,
and
contrasting
resentfully
in
his
mind
his
own
heroic
efforts
with
her
supine
and
culpable
abstinence
;
"
it
is
a
mere
farce
—
a
throwing
away
of
money
—
to
set
good
food
before
you
!
"
"
It
would
be
a
worse
throwing
away
of
it
,
if
I
were
to
gorge
myself
when
I
was
not
hungary
,
"
replies
she
surlily
;
and
with
that
their
conjugal
dialogue
ends
.
The
dinner
,
too
,
has
ended
by-and-by
.
The
oldest
inhabitant
has
given
vent
to
his
second
grace
;
and
there
is
a
rustling
and
streaming
through
the
passage
into
the
hall
,
and
out
upon
grass-plat
and
pier
.
Usually
the
Churchill
party
do
not
participate
in
this
latter
outward
movement
.
To
watch
the
humours
of
the
company
from
the
privacy
of
their
sitting-room
window
has
,
on
previous
evenings
,
seemed
to
them
better
than
mingling
with
them
.
But
to-night
Belinda
lingers
.
She
must
speak
to
him
.
In
justice
to
herself
,
to
him
,
to
her
husband
even
,
she
must
speak
to
him
.
It
would
be
impossible
to
leave
him
in
that
misapprehension
about
her
,
under
which
he
must
necessarily
now
be
lying
.
"
Are
you
going
out
?
"
asks
Sarah
,
with
a
sharp
look
in
her
sister
's
agitated
face
.
"
So
will
I
.
She
has
actually
had
the
bad
taste
to
whip
him
off
to
their
balcony
again
.
After
all
,
they
were
not
in
the
least
anxious
to
be
introduced
to
us
.
Pr-r
!
"
(
shivering
)
,
"
it
is
cold
;
I
will
go
and
fetch
my
little
French
hood
;
if
that
will
not
bring
him
down
,
nothing
will
!
"
She
runs
off
,
and
Belinda
,
with
as
composed
an
air
as
she
can
muster
,
strolls
towards
the
pier
,
and
,
leaning
her
arms
upon
the
rail
,
looks
down
into
the
troubled
lake
water
.
It
is
a
chill
and
unsummerlike
night
;
raw-aired
and
boisterous
.
The
clouds
hug
the
hills
and
smother
the
struggling
moon
