walked,
tail
arched
,
green
eyes
flaming
in
the
sun
,
a
model
of
treacherous
beauty
.
'
Chattie
,
you
fiend
,
come
here
!
'
cried
Rose
,
holding
out
a
hand
to
her
;
'
if
Miss
Barks
were
ever
pretty
she
must
have
looked
like
you
at
this
moment
.
'
'
I
wo
n't
have
Chattie
put
upon
,
'
said
Agnes
,
establishing
herself
at
the
other
side
of
the
little
tea-table
;
'
she
has
done
you
no
harm
.
Come
to
me
,
beastie
.
I
wo
n't
compare
you
to
disagreeable
old
maids
.
'
The
cat
looked
from
one
sister
to
the
other
,
blinking
;
then
with
a
sudden
magnificent
spring
leaped
on
to
Agnes
's
lap
and
curled
herself
up
there
.
'
Nothing
but
cupboard
love
,
'
said
Rose
scornfully
,
in
answer
to
Agnes
's
laugh
;
'
she
knows
you
will
give
her
bread
and
butter
and
I
wo
n't
,
out
of
a
double
regard
for
my
skirts
and
her
morals
.
Oh
,
dear
me
!
Miss
Barks
was
quite
seraphic
last
night
;
she
never
made
a
single
remark
about
my
clothes
,
and
she
did
n't
even
say
to
me
as
she
generally
does
,
with
an
air
of
compassion
,
that
she
"
quite
understands
how
hard
it
must
be
to
keep
in
tune
.
"
'
'
The
amusing
thing
was
Mrs.
Seaton
and
Mr.
Elsmere
,
'
said
Agnes
.
'
I
just
love
,
as
Mrs.
Thornburgh
says
,
to
hear
her
instructing
other
people
in
their
own
particular
trades
.
She
did
n't
get
much
change
out
of
him
.
'
Rose
gave
Agnes
her
tea
,
and
then
,
bending
forward
,
with
one
hand
on
her
heart
,
said
in
a
stage
whisper
,
with
a
dramatic
glance
round
the
garden
,
'
My
heart
is
whole
.
How
is
yours
?
'
'
Intact
,
'
said
Agnes
calmly
,
'
as
that
French
bric-à-brac
man
in
the
Brompton
Road
used
to
say
of
his
pots
.
But
he
is
very
nice
.
'
'
Oh
,
charming
!
But
when
my
destiny
arrives
'
—
and
Rose
,
returning
to
her
tea
,
swept
her
little
hand
with
a
teaspoon
in
it
eloquently
round
—
'
he
wo
n't
have
his
hair
cut
close
.
I
must
have
luxuriant
locks
,
and
I
will
take
no
excuse
!
Une
chevelure
de
poète
,
the
eye
of
an
eagle
,
the
moustache
of
a
hero
,
the
hand
of
a
Rubinstein
,
and
,
if
it
pleases
him
,
the
temper
of
a
fiend
.
He
will
be
odious
,
insufferable
for
all
the
world
besides
,
except
for
me
;
and
for
me
he
will
be
heaven
.
'
She
threw
herself
back
,
a
twinkle
in
her
bright
eye
,
but
a
little
flush
of
something
half
real
on
her
cheek
.
'
No
doubt
,
'
said
Agnes
drily
.
'
But
you
ca
n't
wonder
if
under
the
circumstances
I
do
n't
pine
for
a
brother-in-law
.
To
return
to
the
subject
,
however
,
Catherine
liked
him
.
She
said
so
.
'
'
Oh
,
that
does
n't
count
,
'
replied
Rose
discontentedly
;
'
Catherine
likes
everybody
—
of
a
certain
sort
—
and
everybody
likes
Catherine
.
'
'
Does
that
mean
,
Miss
Hasty
,
'
said
her
sister
,
'
that
you
have
made
up
your
mind
Catherine
will
never
marry
?
'
'
Marry
!
'
cried
Rose
.
'
You
might
as
well
talk
of
marrying
Westminster
Abbey
.
'
Agnes
looked
at
her
attentively
.
Rose
's
fun
had
a
decided
lack
of
sweetness
.
'
After
all
,
'
she
said
demurely
,
'
St
.
Elizabeth
married
.
'
'
Yes
,
but
then
she
was
a
princess
.
Reasons
of
State
.
If
Catherine
were
"
her
Royal
Highness
"
it
would
be
her
duty
to
marry
,
which
would
just
make
all
the
difference
.
Duty
!
I
hate
the
word
.
'
And
Rose
took
up
a
fir-cone
lying
near
and
threw
it
at
the
nose
of
the
collie
,
who
made
a
jump
at
it
,
and
then
resumed
an
attitude
of
blinking
and
dignified
protest
against
his
mistress
's
follies
.
Agnes
again
studied
her
sister
.
'
What
's
the
matter
with
you
,
Rose
?
'
'
The
usual
thing
,
my
dear
,
'
replied
Rose
curtly
,
'
only
more
so
.
I
had
a
letter
this
morning
from
Carry
Ford
—
the
daughter
,
you
know
,
of
those
nice
people
I
stayed
in
Manchester
with
last
year
.
Well
,
she
wants
me
to
go
and
stay
the
winter
with
them
and
study
under
a
first-rate
man
,
Franzen
,
who
is
to
be
in
Manchester
two
days
a
week
during
the
winter
.
I
have
n't
said
a
word
about
it
—
what
's
the
use
?
I
know
all
Catherine
's
arguments
by
heart
.
Manchester
is
not
Whindale
,
and
papa
wished
us
to
live
in
Whindale
;
I
am
not
somebody
else
and
need
n't
earn
my
bread
;
and
art
is
not
religion
;
and
—
—
'
'
Wheels
!
'
exclaimed
Agnes
.
'
Catherine
,
I
suppose
,
home
from
Whinborough
.
'
Rose
got
up
and
peered
through
the
rhododendron
bushes
at
the
top
of
the
wall
which
shut
them
off
from
the
road
.
'
Catherine
,
and
an
unknown
.
Catherine
driving
at
a
foot
's
pace
,
and
the
unknown
walking
beside
her
.
Oh
,
I
see
,
of
course
—
Mr.
Elsmere
.
He
will
come
in
to
tea
,
so
I
'll
go
for
a
cup
.
It
is
his
duty
to
call
on
us
to-day
.
'
When
Rose
came
back
in
the
wake
of
her
mother
,
Catherine
and
Robert
Elsmere
were
coming
up
the
drive
.
Something
had
given
Catherine
more
colour
than
usual
,
and
as
Mrs.
Leyburn
shook
hands
with
the
young
clergyman
her
mother
's
eyes
turned
approvingly
to
her
eldest
daughter
.
'
After
all
,
she
is
as
handsome
as
Rose
,
'
she
said
to
herself
—
'
though
it
is
quite
a
different
style
.
'
Rose
,
who
was
always
tea-maker
,
dispensed
her
wares
;
Catherine
took
her
favourite
low
seat
beside
her
mother
,
clasping
Mrs.
Leyburn
's
thin
mittened
hand
awhile
tenderly
in
her
own
;
Robert
and
Agnes
set
up
a
lively
gossip
on
the
subject
of
the
Thornburghs
'
guests
,
in
which
Rose
joined
,
while
Catherine
looked
smiling
on
.
She
seemed
apart
from
the
rest
,
Robert
thought
;
not
,
clearly
,
by
her
own
will
,
but
by
virtue
of
a
difference
of
temperament
which
could
not
but
make
itself
felt
.
Yet
once
as
Rose
passed
her
,
Robert
saw
her
stretch
out
her
hand
and
touch
her
sister
caressingly
,
with
a
bright
upward
look
and
smile
as
though
she
would
say
,
'
Is
all
well
?
have
you
had
a
good
time
this
afternoon
,
Röschen
?
'
Clearly
the
strong
contemplative
nature
was
not
strong
enough
to
dispense
with
any
of
the
little
wants
and
cravings
of
human
affection
.
Compared
to
the
main
impression
she
was
making
on
him
,
her
suppliant
attitude
at
her
mother
's
feet
and
her
caress
of
her
sister
were
like
flowers
breaking
through
the
stern
March
soil
and
changing
the
whole
spirit
of
the
fields
.
Presently
he
said
something
of
Oxford
,
and
mentioned
Merton
.
Instantly
Mrs.
Leyburn
fell
upon
him
.
Had
he
ever
seen
Mr.
S
—
—
who
had
been
a
Fellow
there
,
and
Rose
's
godfather
?
'
I
do
n't
acknowledge
him
,
'
said
Rose
,
pouting
.
'
Other
people
's
godfathers
give
them
mugs
and
corals
.
Mine
never
gave
me
anything
but
a
Concordance
.
'
Robert
laughed
,
and
proved
to
their
satisfaction
that
Mr.
S
—
—
had
been
extinct
before
his
day
.
But
could
they
ask
him
any
other
questions
?
Mrs.
Leyburn
became
quite
animated
,
and
,
diving
into
her
memory
,
produced
a
number
of
fragmentary
reminiscences
of
her
husband
's
Queen
's
friends
,
asking
him
for
information
about
each
and
all
of
them
.
The
young
man
disentangled
all
her
questions
,
racked
his
brains
to
answer
,
and
showed
all
through
a
quick
friendliness
,
a
charming
deference
as
of
youth
to
age
,
which
confirmed
the
liking
of
the
whole
party
for
him
.
Then
the
mention
of
an
associate
of
Richard
Leyburn
's
youth
,
who
had
been
one
of
the
Tractarian
leaders
,
led
him
into
talk
of
Oxford
changes
and
the
influences
of
the
present
.
He
drew
for
them
the
famous
High
Church
preacher
of
the
moment
,
described
the
great
spectacle
of
his
Bampton
Lectures
,
by
which
Oxford
had
been
recently
thrilled
,
and
gave
a
dramatic
account
of
a
sermon
on
evolution
preached
by
the
hermit-veteran
Pusey
,
as
though
by
another
Elias
returning
to
the
world
to
deliver
a
last
warning
message
to
men
.
Catherine
listened
absorbed
,
her
deep
eyes
fixed
upon
him
.
And
though
all
he
said
was
pitched
in
a
vivacious
narrative
key
and
addressed
as
much
to
the
others
as
to
her
,
inwardly
it
seemed
to
him
that
his
one
object
all
through
was
to
touch
and
keep
her
attention
.
Then
,
in
answer
to
inquiries
about
himself
,
he
fell
to
describing
St.
Anselm
's
with
enthusiasm
,
—
its
growth
,
its
Provost
,
its
effectiveness
as
a
great
educational
machine
,
the
impression
it
had
made
on
Oxford
and
the
country
.
This
led
him
naturally
to
talk
of
Mr.
Grey
,
then
,
next
to
the
Provost
,
the
most
promi
nent
figure
in
the
college
;
and
once
embarked
on
this
theme
he
became
more
eloquent
and
interesting
than
ever
.
The
circle
of
women
listened
to
him
as
to
a
voice
from
the
large
world
.
He
made
them
feel
the
beat
of
the
great
currents
of
English
life
and
thought
;
he
seemed
to
bring
the
stir
and
rush
of
our
central
English
society
into
the
deep
quiet
of
their
valley
.
Even
the
bright-haired
Rose
,
idly
swinging
her
pretty
foot
,
with
a
head
full
of
dreams
and
discontent
,
was
beguiled
,
and
for
the
moment
seemed
to
lose
her
restless
self
in
listening
.
He
told
an
exciting
story
of
a
bad
election
riot
in
Oxford
which
had
been
quelled
at
considerable
personal
risk
by
Mr.
Grey
,
who
had
gained
his
influence
in
the
town
by
a
devotion
of
years
to
the
policy
of
breaking
down
as
far
as
possible
the
old
venomous
feud
between
city
and
university
.
When
he
paused
,
Mrs.
Leyburn
said
,
vaguely
,
'
Did
you
say
he
was
a
canon
of
somewhere
?
'
'
Oh
no
,
'
said
Robert
,
smiling
,
'
he
is
not
a
clergyman
.
'
'
But
you
said
he
preached
,
'
said
Agnes
.
'
Yes
—
but
lay
sermons
—
addresses
.
He
is
not
one
of
us
even
,
according
to
your
standard
and
mine
.
'
'
A
Nonconformist
?
'
sighed
Mrs.
Leyburn
.
'
Oh
,
I
know
they
have
let
in
everybody
now
.
'
'
Well
,
if
you
like
,
'
said
Robert
.
'
What
I
meant
was
that
his
opinions
are
not
orthodox
.
He
could
not
be
a
clergyman
,
but
he
is
one
of
the
noblest
of
men
!
'
He
spoke
with
affectionate
warmth
.
Then
suddenly
Catherine
's
eyes
met
his
,
and
he
felt
an
involuntary
start
.
A
veil
had
fallen
over
them
;
her
sweet
moved
sympathy
was
gone
;
she
seemed
to
have
shrunk
into
herself
.
She
turned
to
Mrs.
Leyburn
.
'
Mother
,
do
you
know
,
I
have
all
sorts
of
messages
from
Aunt
Ellen
'
—
and
in
an
under-voice
she
began
to
give
Mrs.
Leyburn
the
news
of
her
afternoon
expedition
.
Rose
and
Agnes
soon
plunged
young
Elsmere
into
another
stream
of
talk
.
But
he
kept
his
feeling
of
perplexity
.
His
experience
of
other
women
seemed
to
give
him
nothing
to
go
upon
with
regard
to
Miss
Leyburn
.
Presently
Catherine
got
up
and
drew
her
plain
little
black
cape
round
her
again
.
'
My
dear
!
'
remonstrated
Mrs.
Leyburn
.
'
Where
are
you
off
to
now
?
'
'
To
the
Backhouses
,
mother
,
'
she
said
in
a
low
voice
;
'
I
have
not
been
there
for
two
days
.
I
must
go
this
evening
.
'
Mrs.
Leyburn
said
no
more
.
Catherine
's
'
musts
'
were
never
disputed
.
She
moved
towards
Elsmere
with
outstretched
hand
.
But
he
also
sprang
up
.
'
I
,
too
,
must
be
going
,
'
he
said
;
'
I
have
paid
you
an
unconscionable
visit
.
If
you
are
going
past
the
vicarage
,
Miss
Leyburn
,
may
I
escort
you
so
far
?
'
She
stood
quietly
waiting
while
he
made
his
farewells
.
Agnes
,
whose
eye
fell
on
her
sister
during
the
pause
,
was
struck
with
a
passing
sense
of
something
out
of
the
common
.
She
could
hardly
have
defined
her
impression
,
but
Catherine
seemed
more
alive
to
the
outer
world
,
more
like
other
people
,
less
nun-like
,
than
usual
.
When
they
had
left
the
garden
together
,
as
they
had
come
into
it
,
and
Mrs.
Leyburn
,
complaining
of
chilliness
,
had
retreated
to
the
drawing-room
,
Rose
laid
a
quick
hand
on
her
sister
's
arm
.
'
You
say
Catherine
likes
him
?
Owl
!
what
is
a
great
deal
more
certain
is
that
he
likes
her
.
'
'
Well
,
'
said
Agnes
calmly
,
—
'
well
,
I
await
your
remarks
.
'
'
Poor
fellow
!
said
Rose
grimly
,
and
removed
her
hand
.
Meanwhile
Elsmere
and
Catherine
walked
along
the
valley
road
towards
the
Vicarage
.
He
thought
,
uneasily
,
she
was
a
little
more
reserved
with
him
than
she
had
been
in
those
pleasant
moments
after
he
had
overtaken
her
in
the
pony-carriage
;
but
still
she
was
always
kind
,
always
courteous
.
And
what
a
white
hand
it
was
,
hanging
ungloved
against
her
dress
!
what
a
beautiful
dignity
and
freedom
,
as
of
mountain
winds
and
mountain
streams
,
in
every
movement
!
'
You
are
bound
for
High
Ghyll
?
'
he
said
to
her
as
they
neared
the
vicarage
gate
.
Is
it
not
a
long
way
for
you
?
You
have
been
at
a
meeting
already
,
your
sister
said
,
and
teaching
this
morning
!
'
He
looked
down
on
her
with
a
charming
diffidence
as
though
aware
that
their
acquaintance
was
very
young
,
and
yet
with
a
warm
eagerness
of
feeling
piercing
through
.
As
she
paused
under
his
eye
the
slightest
flush
rose
to
Catherine
's
cheek
.
Then
she
looked
up
with
a
smile
.
It
was
amusing
to
be
taken
care
of
by
this
tall
stranger
!
'
It
is
most
unfeminine
,
I
am
afraid
,
'
she
said
,
'
but
I
could
n't
be
tired
if
I
tried
.
'
Elsmere
grasped
her
hand
.
'
You
make
me
feel
myself
more
than
ever
a
shocking
example
,
'
he
said
,
letting
it
go
with
a
little
sigh
.
The
smart
of
his
own
renunciation
was
still
keen
in
him
.
She
lingered
a
moment
,
could
find
nothing
to
say
,
threw
him
a
look
all
shy
sympathy
and
lovely
pity
,
and
was
gone
.
In
the
evening
Robert
got
an
explanation
of
that
sudden
stiffening
in
his
auditor
of
the
afternoon
,
which
had
perplexed
him
.
He
and
the
vicar
were
sitting
smoking
in
the
study
after
dinner
,
and
the
ingenious
young
man
managed
to
shift
the
conversation
on
to
the
Leyburns
,
as
he
had
managed
to
shift
it
once
or
twice
before
that
day
,
flattering
himself
,
of
course
,
on
each
occasion
that
his
manœuvres
were
beyond
detection
.
The
vicar
,
good
soul
,
by
virtue
of
his
original
discovery
,
detected
them
all
,
and
with
a
sense
of
appropriation
in
the
matter
,
not
at
all
unmixed
with
a
sense
of
triumph
over
Mrs.
T
.
,
kept
the
ball
rolling
merrily
.
'
Miss
Leyburn
seems
to
have
very
strong
religious
views
,
'
said
Robert
,
à
propos
of
some
remark
of
the
vicar
's
as
to
the
assistance
she
was
to
him
in
the
school
.
'
Ah
,
she
is
her
father
's
daughter
,
'
said
the
vicar
genially
.
He
had
his
oldest
coat
on
,
his
favourite
pipe
between
his
lips
,
and
a
bit
of
domestic
carpentering
on
his
knee
at
which
he
was
fiddling
away
;
and
,
being
perfectly
happy
,
was
also
perfectly
amiable
.
'
Richard
Leyburn
was
a
fanatic
—
as
mild
as
you
please
,
but
immovable
.
'
'
What
line
?
'
'
Evangelical
,
with
a
dash
of
Quakerism
.
He
lent
me
Madame
Guyon
's
Life
once
to
read
.
I
did
n't
appreciate
it
.
I
told
him
that
for
all
her
religion
she
seemed
to
me
to
have
a
deal
of
the
vixen
in
her
.
He
could
hardly
get
over
it
:
it
nearly
broke
our
friendship
.
But
I
suppose
he
was
very
like
her
,
except
that
,
in
my
opinion
,
his
nature
was
sweeter
.
He
was
a
fatalist
—
saw
leadings
of
Providence
in
every
little
thing
.
And
such
a
dreamer
!
When
he
came
to
live
up
here
just
before
his
death
,
and
all
his
active
life
was
taken
off
him
,
I
believe
half
his
time
he
was
seeing
visions
.
He
used
to
wander
over
the
fells
and
meet
you
with
a
start
,
as
though
you
belonged
to
another
world
than
the
one
he
was
walking
in
.
'
'
And
his
eldest
daughter
was
much
with
him
?
'
'
The
apple
of
his
eye
.
She
understood
him
.
He
could
talk
his
soul
out
to
her
.
The
others
,
of
course
,
were
children
;
and
his
wife
—
well
,
his
wife
was
just
what
you
see
her
now
,
poor
thing
.
He
must
have
married
her
when
she
was
very
young
and
very
pretty
.
She
was
a
squire
's
daughter
somewhere
near
the
school
of
which
he
was
master
—
a
good
family
,
I
believe
—
she
'll
tell
you
so
,
in
a
ladylike
way
.
He
was
always
fidgety
about
her
health
.
He
loved
her
,
I
suppose
,
or
had
loved
her
.
But
it
was
Catherine
who
had
his
mind
;
Catherine
who
was
his
friend
.
She
adored
him
.
I
believe
there
was
always
a
sort
of
pity
in
her
heart
for
him
too
.
But
at
any
rate
he
made
her
and
trained
her
.
He
poured
all
his
ideas
and
convictions
into
her
.
'
'
Which
were
strong
?
'
'
Uncommonly
.
For
all
his
gentle
,
ethereal
look
,
you
could
neither
bend
nor
break
him
.
I
do
n't
believe
anybody
but
Richard
Leyburn
could
have
gone
through
Oxford
at
the
height
of
the
Oxford
Movement
,
and
,
so
to
speak
,
have
known
nothing
about
it
,
while
living
all
the
time
for
religion
.
He
had
a
great
deal
in
common
with
the
Quakers
,
as
I
said
;
a
great
deal
in
common
with
the
Wesleyans
;
but
he
was
very
loyal
to
the
Church
all
the
same
.
He
regarded
it
as
the
golden
mean
.
George
Herbert
was
his
favourite
poet
.
He
used
to
carry
his
poems
about
with
him
on
the
mountains
,
and
an
expurgated
Christian
Year
—
the
only
thing
he
ever
took
from
the
High
Churchmen
—
which
he
had
made
for
himself
,
and
which
he
and
Catherine
knew
by
heart
.
In
some
ways
he
was
not
a
bigot
at
all
.
He
would
have
had
the
Church
make
peace
with
the
Dissenters
;
he
was
all
for
upsetting
tests
so
far
as
Nonconformity
was
concerned
.
But
he
drew
the
most
rigid
line
between
belief
and
unbelief
.
He
would
not
have
dined
at
the
same
table
with
a
Unitarian
if
he
could
have
helped
it
.
I
remember
a
furious
article
of
his
in
the
Record
against
admitting
Unitarians
to
the
Universities
or
allowing
them
to
sit
in
Parliament
.
England
is
a
Christian
State
,
he
said
;
they
are
not
Christians
;
they
have
no
right
in
her
except
on
sufferance
.
Well
,
I
suppose
he
was
about
right
,
'
said
the
vicar
with
a
sigh
.
'
We
are
all
so
half-hearted
nowadays
.
'
'
Not
he
,
'
cried
Robert
hotly
.
'
Who
are
we
that
because
a
man
differs
from
us
in
opinion
we
are
to
shut
him
out
from
the
education
of
political
and
civil
duty
?
But
never
mind
,
Cousin
William
.
Go
on
.
'
'
There
's
no
more
that
I
remember
,
except
that
of
course
Catherine
took
all
these
ideas
from
him
.
He
would
n't
let
his
children
know
any
unbeliever
,
however
apparently
worthy
and
good
.
He
impressed
it
upon
them
as
their
special
sacred
duty
,
in
a
time
of
wicked
enmity
to
religion
,
to
cherish
the
faith
and
the
whole
faith
.
He
wished
his
wife
and
daughters
to
live
on
here
after
his
death
that
they
might
be
less
in
danger
spiritually
than
in
the
big
world
,
and
that
they
might
have
more
opportunity
of
living
the
old-fashioned
Christian
life
.
There
was
also
some
mystical
idea
,
I
think
,
of
making
up
through
his
children
for
the
godless
lives
of
their
forefathers
.
He
used
to
reproach
himself
for
having
in
his
prosperous
days
neglected
his
family
,
some
of
whom
he
might
have
helped
to
raise
.
'
'
Well
,
but
,
'
said
Robert
,
'
all
very
well
for
Miss
Leyburn
,
but
I
do
n't
see
the
father
in
the
two
younger
girls
.
'
'
Ah
,
there
is
Catherine
's
difficulty
,
'
said
the
vicar
,
shrugging
his
shoulders
.
'
Poor
thing
!
How
well
I
remember
her
after
her
father
's
death
!
She
came
down
to
see
me
in
the
dining-room
about
some
arrangement
for
the
funeral
.
She
was
only
sixteen
,
so
pale
and
thin
with
nursing
.
I
said
something
about
the
comfort
she
had
been
to
her
father
.
She
took
my
hand
and
burst
into
tears
.
"
He
was
so
good
!
"
she
said
;
"
I
loved
him
so
!
Oh
,
Mr.
Thornburgh
,
help
me
to
look
after
the
others
!
"
And
that
's
been
her
one
thought
since
then
—
that
,
next
to
following
the
narrow
road
.
'
The
vicar
had
begun
to
speak
with
emotion
,
as
generally
happened
to
him
whenever
he
was
beguiled
into
much
speech
about
Catherine
Leyburn
.
There
must
have
been
something
great
somewhere
in
the
insignificant
elderly
man
.
A
meaner
soul
might
so
easily
have
been
jealous
of
this
girl
with
her
inconveniently
high
standards
,
and
her
influence
,
surpassing
his
own
,
in
his
own
domain
.
'
I
should
like
to
know
the
secret
of
the
little
musician
's
independence
,
'
said
Robert
,
musing
.
'
There
might
be
no
tie
of
blood
at
all
between
her
and
the
elder
,
so
far
as
I
can
see
.
'
'
Oh
,
I
do
n't
know
that
!
There
's
more
than
you
think
,
or
Catherine
would
n't
have
kept
her
hold
over
her
so
far
as
she
has
.
Generally
she
gets
her
way
,
except
about
the
music
.
There
Rose
sticks
to
it
.
'
'
And
why
should
n't
she
?
'
'
Ah
,
well
,
you
see
,
my
dear
fellow
,
I
am
old
enough
,
and
you
're
not
,
to
remember
what
people
in
the
old
days
used
to
think
about
art
.
Of
course
nowadays
we
all
say
very
fine
things
about
it
;
but
Richard
Leyburn
would
no
more
have
admitted
that
a
girl
who
had
n't
got
her
own
bread
or
her
family
's
to
earn
by
it
was
justified
in
spending
her
time
in
fiddling
than
he
would
have
approved
of
her
spending
it
in
dancing
.
I
have
heard
him
take
a
text
out
of
the
Imitation
and
lecture
Rose
when
she
was
quite
a
baby
for
pestering
any
stray
person
she
could
get
hold
of
to
give
her
music-lessons
.
"
Woe
to
them
"
—
yes
,
that
was
it
—
"
that
inquire
many
curious
things
of
men
,
and
care
little
about
the
way
of
serving
me
.
"
However
,
he
was
n't
consistent
.
Nobody
is
.
It
was
actually
he
that
brought
Rose
her
first
violin
from
London
in
a
green
baize
bag
.
Mrs.
Leyburn
took
me
in
one
night
to
see
her
asleep
with
it
on
her
pillow
,
and
all
her
pretty
curls
lying
over
the
strings
.
I
daresay
,
poor
man
,
it
was
one
of
the
acts
towards
his
children
that
tormented
his
mind
in
his
last
hour
.
'
'
She
has
certainly
had
her
way
about
practising
it
:
she
plays
superbly
.
'
'
Oh
yes
,
she
has
had
her
way
.
She
is
a
queer
mixture
,
is
Rose
.
I
see
a
touch
of
the
old
Leyburn
recklessness
in
her
;
and
then
there
is
the
beauty
and
refinement
of
her
mother
's
side
of
the
family
.
Lately
she
has
got
quite
out
of
hand
.
She
went
to
stay
with
some
relations
they
have
in
Manchester
,
got
drawn
into
the
musical
set
there
,
took
to
these
funny
gowns
,
and
now
she
and
Catherine
are
always
half
at
war
.
Poor
Catherine
said
to
me
the
other
day
,
with
tears
in
her
eyes
,
that
she
knew
Rose
thought
her
as
hard
as
iron
.
"
But
what
can
I
do
?
"
she
said
.
"
I
promised
papa
.
"
She
makes
herself
miserable
,
and
it
's
no
use
.
I
wish
the
little
wild
thing
would
get
herself
well
married
.
She
's
not
meant
for
this
humdrum
place
,
and
she
may
kick
over
the
traces
.
'
'
She
's
pretty
enough
for
anything
and
anybody
,
'
said
Robert
.
The
vicar
looked
at
him
sharply
,
but
the
young
man
's
critical
and
meditative
look
reassured
him
.
The
next
day
,
just
before
early
dinner
,
Rose
and
Agnes
,
who
had
been
for
a
walk
,
were
startled
,
as
they
were
turning
into
their
own
gate
,
by
the
frantic
waving
of
a
white
handkerchief
from
the
vicarage
garden
.
It
was
Mrs.
Thornburgh
's
accepted
way
of
calling
the
attention
of
the
Burwood
inmates
,
and
the
girls
walked
on
.
They
found
the
good
lady
waiting
for
them
in
the
drive
in
a
characteristic
glow
and
flutter
.
'
My
dears
,
I
have
been
looking
out
for
you
all
the
morning
!
I
should
have
come
over
but
for
the
stores
coming
,
and
a
tire
some
man
from
Randall
's
.
I
've
had
to
bargain
with
him
for
a
whole
hour
about
taking
back
those
sweets
.
I
was
swindled
,
of
course
,
but
we
should
have
died
if
we
'd
had
to
eat
them
up
.
Well
,
now
,
my
dears
—
—
'
The
vicar
's
wife
paused
.
Her
square
short
figure
was
between
the
two
girls
;
she
had
on
arm
of
each
,
and
she
looked
significantly
from
one
to
another
,
her
gray
curls
flapping
across
her
face
as
she
did
so
.
'
Go
on
,
Mrs.
Thornburgh
,
'
cried
Rose
.
'
You
make
us
quite
nervous
.
'
'
How
do
you
like
Mr.
Elsmere
?
'
she
inquired
solemnly
.
'
Very
much
,
'
said
both
in
chorus
.
Mrs.
Thornburgh
surveyed
Rose
's
smiling
frankness
with
a
little
sigh
.
Things
were
going
grandly
,
but
she
could
imagine
a
disposition
of
affairs
which
would
have
given
her
personally
more
pleasure
.
'
How
—
would
—
you
—
like
—
him
for
a
brother-in-law
?
'
she
inquired
,
beginning
in
a
whisper
,
with
slow
emphasis
,
patting
Rose
's
arm
,
and
bringing
out
the
last
words
with
a
rush
.
Agnes
caught
the
twinkle
in
Rose
's
eye
,
but
she
answered
for
them
both
demurely
.
'
We
have
no
objection
to
entertain
the
idea
.
But
you
must
explain
.
'
'
Explain
!
'
cried
Mrs.
Thornburgh
.
'
I
should
think
it
explains
itself
.
At
least
if
you
'd
been
in
this
house
the
last
twenty-four
hours
you
'd
think
so
.
Since
the
moment
when
he
first
met
her
,
it
's
been
"
Miss
Leyburn
,
"
"
Miss
Leyburn
,
"
all
the
time
.
One
might
have
seen
it
with
half
an
eye
from
the
beginning
.
'
Mrs.
Thornburgh
had
not
seen
it
with
two
eyes
,
as
we
know
,
till
it
was
pointed
out
to
her
;
but
her
imagination
worked
with
equal
liveliness
backwards
or
forwards
.
'
He
went
to
see
you
yesterday
,
did
n't
he
—
yes
,
I
know
he
did
—
and
he
overtook
her
in
the
pony-carriage
—
the
vicar
saw
them
from
across
the
valley
—
and
he
brought
her
back
from
your
house
,
and
then
he
kept
William
up
till
nearly
twelve
talking
of
her
.
And
now
he
wants
a
picnic
.
Oh
,
it
's
as
plain
as
a
pike-staff
.
And
,
my
dears
,
nothing
to
be
said
against
him
.
Fifteen
hundred
a
year
if
he
's
a
penny
.
A
nice
living
,
only
his
mother
to
look
after
,
and
as
good
a
young
fellow
as
ever
stepped
.
'
Mrs.
Thornburgh
stopped
,
choked
almost
by
her
own
eloquence
.
The
girls
,
who
had
by
this
time
established
her
between
them
on
a
garden-seat
,
looked
at
her
with
smiling
composure
.
They
were
accustomed
to
letting
her
have
her
budget
out
.
'
And
now
,
of
course
,
'
she
resumed
,
taking
breath
,
and
chilled
a
little
by
their
silence
,
'
now
,
of
course
,
I
want
to
know
about
Catherine
?
'
She
regarded
them
with
anxious
interrogation
.
Rose
,
still
smiling
,
slowly
shook
her
head
.
'
What
!
'
cried
Mrs.
Thornburgh
;
then
,
with
charming
inconsistency
,
'
oh
,
you
ca
n't
know
anything
in
two
days
.
'
'
That
's
just
it
,
'
said
Agnes
,
intervening
;
'
we
ca
n't
know
anything
in
two
days
.
No
one
ever
will
know
anything
about
Catherine
,
if
she
takes
to
anybody
,
till
the
last
minute
.
'
Mrs.
Thornburgh
's
face
fell
.
'
It
's
very
difficult
when
people
will
be
so
reserved
,
'
she
said
dolefully
.
The
girls
acquiesced
,
but
intimated
that
they
saw
no
way
out
of
it
.
'
At
any
rate
we
can
bring
them
together
,
'
she
broke
out
,
brightening
again
.
'
We
can
have
picnics
,
you
know
,
and
teas
,
and
all
that
—
and
watch
.
Now
listen
.
'
And
the
vicar
's
wife
sketched
out
a
programme
of
festivities
for
the
next
fortnight
she
had
been
revolving
in
her
inventive
head
,
which
took
the
sisters
'
breath
away
.
Rose
bit
her
lip
to
keep
in
her
laughter
.
Agnes
with
vast
self-possession
took
Mrs.
Thornburgh
in
hand
.
She
pointed
out
firmly
that
nothing
would
be
so
likely
to
make
Catherine
impracticable
as
fuss
.
'
In
vain
is
the
net
spread
,
'
etc.
She
preached
from
the
text
with
a
worldly
wisdom
which
quickly
crushed
Mrs.
Thornburgh
.
'
Well
,
what
am
I
to
do
,
my
dears
?
'
she
said
at
last
helplessly
.
'
Look
at
the
weather
!
We
must
have
some
picnics
,
if
it
's
only
to
amuse
Robert
.
'
Mrs.
Thornburgh
spent
her
life
between
a
condition
of
effervescence
and
a
condition
of
feeling
the
world
too
much
for
her
.
Rose
and
Agnes
,
having
now
reduced
her
to
the
latter
state
,
proceeded
cautiously
to
give
her
her
head
again
.
They
promised
her
two
or
three
expeditions
and
one
picnic
at
least
;
they
said
they
would
do
their
best
;
they
promised
they
would
report
what
they
saw
and
be
very
discreet
,
both
feeling
the
comedy
of
Mrs.
Thornburgh
as
the
advocate
of
discretion
;
and
then
they
departed
to
their
early
dinner
,
leaving
the
vicars
wife
decidedly
less
self-confident
than
they
found
her
.
'
The
first
matrimonial
excitement
of
the
family
,
'
cried
Agnes
as
they
walked
home
.
'
So
far
no
one
can
say
the
Miss
Leyburns
have
been
besieged
!
'
'
It
will
be
all
moonshine
,
'
Rose
replied
decisively
.
'
Mr
.
Elsmere
may
lose
his
heart
;
we
may
aid
and
abet
him
;
Catherine
will
live
in
the
clouds
for
a
few
weeks
,
and
come
down
from
them
at
the
end
with
the
air
of
an
angel
,
to
give
him
his
coup
de
grâce
.
As
I
said
before
—
poor
fellow
!
'
Agnes
made
no
answer
.
She
was
never
so
positive
as
Rose
,
and
on
the
whole
did
not
find
herself
the
worse
for
it
in
life
.
Besides
,
she
understood
that
there
was
a
soreness
at
the
bottom
of
Rose
's
heart
that
was
always
showing
itself
in
unexpected
connections
.
There
was
no
necessity
,
indeed
,
for
elaborate
schemes
for
assisting
Providence
.
Mrs.
Thornburgh
had
her
picnics
and
her
expeditions
,
but
without
them
Robert
Elsmere
would
have
been
still
man
enough
to
see
Catherine
Leyburn
every
day
.
He
loitered
about
the
roads
along
which
she
must
needs
pass
to
do
her
many
offices
of
charity
;
he
offered
the
vicar
to
take
a
class
in
the
school
,
and
was
naïvely
exultant
that
the
vicar
curiously
happened
to
fix
an
hour
when
he
must
needs
see
Miss
Leyburn
going
or
coming
on
the
same
errand
;
he
dropped
into
Burwood
on
any
conceivable
pretext
,
till
Rose
and
Agnes
lost
all
inconvenient
respect
for
his
cloth
and
Mrs.
Leyburn
sent
him
on
errands
;
and
he
even
insisted
that
Catherine
and
the
vicar
should
make
use
of
him
and
his
pastoral
services
in
one
or
two
of
the
cases
of
sickness
or
poverty
under
their
care
.
Catherine
,
with
a
little
more
reserve
than
usual
,
took
him
one
day
to
the
Tysons
'
,
and
introduced
him
to
the
poor
crippled
son
who
was
likely
to
live
on
paralysed
for
some
time
,
under
the
weight
,
moreover
,
of
a
black
cloud
of
depression
which
seldom
lifted
.
Mrs.
Tyson
kept
her
talking
in
the
room
,
and
she
never
forgot
the
scene
.
It
showed
her
a
new
aspect
of
a
man
whose
intellectual
life
was
becoming
plain
to
her
,
while
his
moral
life
was
still
something
of
a
mystery
.
The
look
in
Elsmere
's
face
as
he
sat
bending
over
the
maimed
young
farmer
,
the
strength
and
tenderness
of
the
man
,
the
diffidence
of
the
few
religious
things
he
said
,
and
yet
the
reality
and
force
of
them
,
struck
her
powerfully
.
He
had
forgotten
her
,
forgotten
everything
save
the
bitter
human
need
,
and
the
comfort
it
was
his
privilege
to
offer
.
Catherine
stood
answering
Mrs.
Tyson
at
random
,
the
tears
rising
in
her
eyes
.
She
slipped
out
while
he
was
still
talking
,
and
went
home
strangely
moved
.
As
to
the
festivities
,
she
did
her
best
to
join
in
them
.
The
sensitive
soul
often
reproached
itself
afterwards
for
having
juggled
in
the
matter
.
Was
it
not
her
duty
to
manage
a
little
society
and
gaiety
for
her
sisters
sometimes
?
Her
mother
could
not
undertake
it
,
and
was
always
plaintively
protesting
that
Catherine
would
not
be
young
.
So
for
a
short
week
or
two
Catherine
did
her
best
to
be
young
,
and
climbed
the
mountain
grass
,
or
forded
the
mountain
streams
with
the
energy
and
the
grace
of
perfect
health
,
trembling
afterwards
at
night
as
she
knelt
by
her
window
to
think
how
much
sheer
pleasure
the
day
had
contained
.
Her
life
had
always
had
the
tension
of
a
bent
bow
.
It
seemed
to
her
once
or
twice
during
this
fortnight
as
though
something
were
suddenly
relaxed
in
her
,
and
she
felt
a
swift
Bunyan-like
terror
of
backsliding
,
of
falling
away
.
But
she
never
confessed
herself
fully
;
she
was
even
blind
to
what
her
perspicacity
would
have
seen
so
readily
in
another
's
case
—
the
little
arts
and
manœuvres
of
those
about
her
.
It
did
not
strike
her
that
Mrs.
Thornburgh
was
more
flighty
and
more
ebullient
than
ever
;
that
the
vicar
's
wife
kissed
her
at
odd
times
,
and
with
a
quite
unwonted
effusion
;
or
that
Agnes
and
Rose
,
when
they
were
in
the
wild
heart
of
the
mountains
,
or
wandering
far
and
wide
in
search
of
sticks
for
a
picnic
fire
,
showed
a
perfect
genius
for
avoiding
Mr.
Elsmere
,
whom
both
of
them
liked
,
and
that
in
consequence
his
society
almost
always
fell
to
her
.
Nor
did
she
ever
analyse
what
would
have
been
the
attraction
of
those
walks
to
her
without
that
tall
figure
at
her
side
,
that
bounding
step
,
that
picturesque
impetuous
talk
.
There
are
moments
when
Nature
throws
a
kind
of
heavenly
mist
and
dazzlement
round
the
soul
it
would
fain
make
happy
.
The
soul
gropes
blindly
on
;
if
it
saw
its
way
it
might
be
timid
and
draw
back
,
but
kind
powers
lead
it
genially
onward
through
a
golden
darkness
.
Meanwhile
if
she
did
not
know
herself
,
she
and
Elsmere
learnt
with
wonderful
quickness
and
thoroughness
to
know
each
other
.
The
two
households
so
near
together
,
and
so
isolated
from
the
world
besides
,
were
necessarily
in
constant
communication
.
And
Elsmere
made
a
most
stirring
element
in
their
common
life
.
Never
had
he
been
more
keen
,
more
strenuous
.
It
gave
Catherine
new
lights
on
modern
character
altogether
to
see
how
he
was
preparing
himself
for
this
Surrey
living
—
reading
up
the
history
,
geology
,
and
botany
of
the
Weald
and
its
neighbourhood
,
plunging
into
reports
of
agricultural
commissions
,
or
spending
his
quick
brain
on
village
sanitation
,
with
the
oddest
results
sometimes
,
so
far
as
his
conversation
was
concerned
.
And
then
in
the
middle
of
his
disquisitions
,
which
would
keep
her
breathless
with
a
sense
of
being
whirled
through
space
at
the
tail
of
an
electric
kite
,
the
kite
would
come
down
with
a
run
,
and
the
preacher
and
reformer
would
come
hat
in
hand
to
the
girl
beside
him
,
asking
her
humbly
to
advise
him
,
to
pour
out
on
him
some
of
that
practical
experience
of
hers
among
the
poor
and
suffering
,
for
the
sake
of
which
he
would
in
an
instant
scornfully
fling
out
of
sight
all
his
own
magnificent
plannings
.
Never
had
she
told
so
much
of
her
own
life
to
any
one
;
her
consciousness
of
it
sometimes
filled
her
with
a
sort
of
terror
,
lest
she
might
have
been
trading
,
as
it
were
,
for
her
own
advantage
on
the
sacred
things
of
God
.
But
he
would
have
it
.
His
sympathy
,
his
sweetness
,
his
quick
spiritual
feeling
drew
the
stories
out
of
her
.
And
then
how
his
bright
frank
eyes
would
soften
!
With
what
a
reverence
would
he
touch
her
hand
when
she
said
good-bye
!
And
on
her
side
she
felt
that
she
knew
almost
as
much
about
Murewell
as
he
did
.
She
could
imagine
the
wild
beauty
of
the
Surrey
heathland
,
she
could
see
the
white
square
rectory
with
its
sloping
walled
garden
,
the
juniper
common
just
outside
the
straggling
village
;
she
could
even
picture
the
strange
squire
,
solitary
in
the
great
Tudor
Hall
,
the
author
of
terrible
books
against
the
religion
of
Christ
of
which
she
shrank
from
hearing
,
and
share
the
anxieties
of
the
young
rector
as
to
his
future
relations
towards
a
personality
so
marked
,
and
so
important
to
every
soul
in
the
little
community
he
was
called
to
rule
.
Here
all
was
plain
sailing
;
she
understood
him
perfectly
,
and
her
gentle
comments
,
or
her
occasional
sarcasms
,
were
friendliness
itself
.
But
it
was
when
he
turned
to
larger
things
—
to
books
,
movements
,
leaders
of
the
day
—
that
she
was
often
puzzled
,
sometimes
distressed
.
Why
would
he
seem
to
exalt
and
glorify
rebellion
against
the
established
order
in
the
person
of
Mr.
Grey
?
Or
why
,
ardent
as
his
own
faith
was
,
would
he
talk
as
though
opinion
was
a
purely
personal
matter
,
hardly
in
itself
to
be
made
the
subject
of
moral
judgment
at
all
,
and
as
though
right
belief
were
a
blessed
privilege
and
boon
rather
than
a
law
and
an
obligation
?
When
his
comments
on
men
and
things
took
this
tinge
,
she
would
turn
silent
,
feeling
a
kind
of
painful
opposition
between
his
venturesome
speech
and
his
clergyman
's
dress
.
And
yet
,
as
we
all
know
,
these
ways
of
speech
were
not
his
own
.
He
was
merely
talking
the
natural
Christian
language
of
this
generation
;
whereas
she
,
the
child
of
a
mystic
—
solitary
,
intense
,
and
deeply
reflective
from
her
earliest
youth
—
was
still
thinking
and
speaking
in
the
language
of
her
father
's
generation
.
But
although
,
as
often
as
his
unwariness
brought
him
near
to
these
points
of
jarring
,
he
would
hurry
away
from
them
,
conscious
that
here
was
the
one
profound
difference
between
them
,
it
was
clear
to
him
that
insensibly
she
had
moved
further
than
she
knew
from
her
father
's
standpoint
.
Even
among
these
solitudes
,
far
from
men
and
literature
,
she
had
unconsciously
felt
the
breath
of
her
time
in
some
degree
.
As
he
penetrated
deeper
into
the
nature
he
found
it
honeycombed
,
as
it
were
,
here
and
there
,
with
beautiful
unexpected
softnesses
and
diffidences
.
Once
,
after
a
long
walk
,
as
they
were
lingering
homewards
under
a
cloudy
evening
sky
,
he
came
upon
the
great
problem
of
her
life
—
Rose
and
Rose
's
art
.
He
drew
her
difficulty
from
her
with
the
most
delicate
skill
.
She
had
laid
it
bare
,
and
was
blushing
to
think
how
she
had
asked
his
counsel
,
almost
before
she
knew
where
their
talk
was
leading
.
How
was
it
lawful
for
the
Christian
to
spend
the
few
short
years
of
the
earthly
combat
in
any
pursuit
,
however
noble
and
exquisite
,
which
merely
aimed
at
the
gratification
of
the
senses
,
and
implied
in
the
pursuer
the
emphasising
rather
than
the
surrender
of
self
?
He
argued
it
very
much
as
Kingsley
would
have
argued
it
,
tried
to
lift
her
to
a
more
intelligent
view
of
a
multifarious
world
,
dwelling
on
the
function
of
pure
beauty
in
life
,
and
on
the
influence
of
beauty
on
character
,
pointing
out
the
value
to
the
race
of
all
individual
development
,
and
pressing
home
on
her
the
natural
religious
question
:
How
are
the
artistic
aptitudes
to
be
explained
unless
the
Great
Designer
meant
them
to
have
a
use
and
function
in
His
world
?
She
replied
doubtfully
that
she
had
always
supposed
they
were
lawful
for
recreation
,
and
like
any
other
trade
for
bread-winning
,
but
—
—
Then
he
told
her
much
that
he
knew
about
the
humanising
effect
of
music
on
the
poor
.
He
described
to
her
the
efforts
of
a
London
society
,
of
which
he
was
a
subscribing
member
,
to
popularise
the
best
music
among
the
lowest
class
;
he
dwelt
almost
with
passion
on
the
difference
between
the
joy
to
be
got
out
of
such
things
and
the
common
brutalising
joys
of
the
workman
.
And
you
could
not
have
art
without
artists
.
In
this
again
he
was
only
talking
the
commonplaces
of
his
day
.
But
to
her
they
were
not
commonplaces
at
all
.
She
looked
at
him
from
time
to
time
,
her
great
eyes
lightening
and
deepening
as
it
seemed
with
every
fresh
thrust
of
his
.
'
I
am
grateful
to
you
,
'
she
said
at
last
with
an
involuntary
outburst
,
'
I
am
very
grateful
to
you
!
'
And
she
gave
a
long
sigh
as
if
some
burden
she
had
long
borne
in
patient
silence
had
been
loosened
a
little
,
if
only
by
the
fact
of
speech
about
it
.
She
was
not
convinced
exactly
.
She
was
too
strong
a
nature
to
relinquish
a
principle
without
a
period
of
meditative
struggle
in
which
conscience
should
have
all
its
dues
.
But
her
tone
made
his
heart
leap
.
He
felt
in
it
a
momentary
self-surrender
that
,
coming
from
a
creature
of
so
rare
a
dignity
,
filled
him
with
an
exquisite
sense
of
power
,
and
yet
at
the
same
time
with
a
strange
humility
beyond
words
.
A
day
or
two
later
he
was
the
spectator
of
a
curious
little
scene
.
An
aunt
of
the
Leyburns
living
in
Whinborough
came
to
see
them
.
She
was
their
father
's
youngest
sister
,
and
the
wife
of
a
man
who
had
made
some
money
as
a
builder
in
Whinborough
.
When
Robert
came
in
he
found
her
sitting
on
the
sofa
having
tea
,
a
large
homely-looking
woman
with
gray
hair
,
a
high
brow
,
and
prominent
white
teeth
.
She
had
unfastened
her
bonnet
strings
,
and
a
clean
white
handkerchief
lay
spread
out
on
her
lap
.
When
Elsmere
was
introduced
to
her
,
she
got
up
,
and
said
with
some
effusiveness
,
and
a
distinct
Westmoreland
accent
—
'
Very
pleased
indeed
to
make
your
acquaintance
,
sir
,
'
while
she
enclosed
his
fingers
in
a
capacious
hand
.
Mrs.
Leyburn
,
looking
fidgety
and
uncomfortable
,
was
sitting
near
her
,
and
Catherine
,
the
only
member
of
the
party
who
showed
no
sign
of
embarrassment
when
Robert
entered
,
was
superintending
her
aunt
's
tea
and
talking
busily
the
while
.
Robert
sat
down
at
a
little
distance
beside
Agnes
and
Rose
,
who
were
chattering
together
a
little
artificially
and
of
set
purpose
as
it
seemed
to
him
.
But
the
aunt
was
not
to
be
ignored
.
She
talked
too
loud
not
to
be
overheard
,
and
Agnes
inwardly
noted
that
as
soon
as
Robert
Elsmere
appeared
she
talked
louder
than
before
.
He
gathered
presently
that
she
was
an
ardent
Wesleyan
,
and
that
she
was
engaged
in
describing
to
Catherine
and
Mrs.
Leyburn
the
evangelistic
exploits
of
her
eldest
son
,
who
had
recently
obtained
his
first
circuit
as
a
Wesleyan
minister
.
He
was
shrewd
enough
,
too
,
to
guess
,
after
a
minute
or
two
,
that
his
presence
and
probably
his
obnoxious
clerical
dress
gave
additional
zest
to
the
recital
.
'
Oh
,
his
success
at
Colesbridge
has
been
somethin
'
marvellous
,
'
he
heard
her
say
,
with
uplifted
hands
and
eyes
,
'
some-thin
'
marvellous
.
The
Lord
has
blessed
him
indeed
!
It
does
n't
matter
what
it
is
,
whether
it
's
meetin
's
,
or
sermons
,
or
parlour
work
,
or
just
faithful
dealin
's
with
souls
one
by
one
.
Satan
has
no
cliverer
foe
than
Edward
.
He
never
shuts
his
eyes
;
as
Edward
says
himself
,
it
's
like
trackin
'
for
game
is
huntin
'
for
souls
.
Why
,
the
other
day
he
was
walkin
'
out
from
Coventry
to
a
service
.
It
was
the
Sabbath
,
and
he
saw
a
man
in
a
bit
of
grass
by
the
roadside
,
mendin
'
his
cart
.
And
he
stopped
did
Edward
,
and
gave
him
the
Word
strong
.
The
man
seemed
puzzled
like
,
and
said
he
meant
no
harm
.
"
No
harm
!
"
says
Edward
,
"
when
you
're
just
doin
'
the
devil
's
work
every
nail
you
put
in
,
and
hammerin
'
away
,
mon
,
at
your
own
damnation
.
"
But
here
's
his
letter
.
'
And
while
Rose
turned
away
to
a
far
window
to
hide
an
almost
hysterical
inclination
to
laugh
,
Mrs.
Fleming
opened
her
bag
,
took
out
a
treasured
paper
,
and
read
with
the
emphasis
and
the
unction
peculiar
to
a
certain
type
of
revivalism
—
'
"
Poor
sinner
!
He
was
much
put
about
.
I
left
him
,
praying
the
Lord
my
shaft
might
rankle
in
him
;
ay
,
might
fester
and
burn
in
him
till
he
found
no
peace
but
in
Jesus
.
He
seemed
very
dark
and
destitute
—
no
respect
for
the
Word
or
its
ministers
.
A
bit
farther
I
met
a
boy
carrying
a
load
of
turnips
.
To
him
,
too
,
I
was
faithful
,
and
he
went
on
,
taking
,
without
knowing
it
,
a
precious
leaflet
with
him
in
his
bag
.
Glorious
work
!
If
Wesleyans
will
but
go
on
claiming
even
the
highways
for
God
,
sin
will
skulk
yet
.
"
'
A
dead
silence
.
Mrs.
Fleming
folded
up
the
letter
and
put
it
back
into
her
bag
.
'
There
's
your
true
minister
,
'
she
said
,
with
a
large
judicial
utterance
as
she
closed
the
snap
.
'
Wherever
he
goes
Edward
must
have
souls
!
'
And
she
threw
a
swift
searching
look
at
the
young
clergyman
in
the
window
.
'
He
must
have
very
hard
work
with
so
much
walking
and
preaching
,
'
said
Catherine
gently
.
Somehow
,
as
soon
as
she
spoke
,
Elsmere
saw
the
whole
odd
little
scene
with
other
eyes
.
'
His
work
is
just
wearin
'
him
out
,
'
said
the
mother
fervently
;
'
but
a
minister
does
n't
think
of
that
.
Wherever
he
goes
there
are
sinners
saved
.
He
stayed
last
week
at
a
house
near
Nuneaton
.
At
family
prayer
alone
there
were
five
saved
.
And
at
the
prayer-meetin
's
on
the
Sabbath
such
outpourin
's
of
the
Spirit
!
Edward
comes
home
,
his
wife
tells
me
,
just
ready
to
drop
.
Are
you
acquainted
,
sir
,
'
she
added
,
turning
suddenly
to
Elsmere
,
and
speaking
in
a
certain
tone
of
provocation
,
'
with
the
labours
of
our
Wesleyan
ministers
?
'
'
No
,
'
said
Robert
,
with
his
pleasant
smile
,
'
not
personally
.
But
I
have
the
greatest
respect
for
them
as
a
body
of
devoted
men
.
'
The
look
of
battle
faded
from
the
woman
's
face
.
It
was
not
an
unpleasant
face
.
He
even
saw
strange
reminiscences
of
Catherine
in
it
at
times
.
'
You
're
aboot
right
there
,
sir
.
Not
that
they
dare
take
any
credit
to
themselves
—
it
's
grace
,
sir
,
all
grace
.
'
'
Aunt
Ellen
,
'
said
Catherine
,
while
a
sudden
light
broke
over
her
face
;
'
I
just
want
you
to
take
Edward
a
little
story
from
me
.
Ministers
are
good
things
,
but
God
can
do
without
them
.
'
And
she
laid
her
hand
on
her
aunt
's
knee
with
a
smile
in
which
there
was
the
slightest
touch
of
affectionate
satire
.
'
I
was
up
among
the
fells
the
other
day
,
'
she
went
on
;
'
I
met
an
elderly
man
cutting
wood
in
a
plantation
,
and
I
stopped
and
asked
him
how
he
was
.
"
Ah
,
miss
,
"
he
said
,
"
verra
weel
,
verra
weel
.
And
yet
it
was
nobbut
Friday
morning
lasst
,
I
cam
oop
here
,
awfu
'
bad
in
my
sperrits
like
.
For
my
wife
she
's
sick
,
an
'
a
'
dwinnelt
away
,
and
I
'm
gettin
'
auld
,
and
ca
n't
wark
as
I
'd
used
to
,
and
it
did
luke
to
me
as
thoo
there
was
naethin
'
afore
us
nobbut
t
'
Union
.
And
t
'
mist
war
low
on
t
'
fells
,
and
I
sat
oonder
t
'
wall
,
wettish
and
broodin
'
like
.
And
theer
—
all
ov
a
soodent
the
Lord
found
me
!
Yes
,
puir
Reuben
Judge
,
as
daw
n't
matter
to
naebody
,
the
Lord
found
un
.
It
war
leyke
as
thoo
His
feeace
cam
a-glisterin
'
an
'
a-shinin
'
through
t
'
mist
.
An
'
iver
sence
then
,
miss
,
aa
've
jest
felt
as
thoo
aa
could
a
'
cut
an
'
stackt
all
t
'
wood
on
t
'
fell
in
naw
time
at
a
'
!
"
And
he
waved
his
hand
round
the
mountain
side
which
was
covered
with
plantation
.
And
all
the
way
along
the
path
for
ever
so
long
I
could
hear
him
singing
,
chopping
away
,
and
quavering
out
,
"
Rock
of
Ages
.
"
'
She
paused
,
her
delicate
face
,
with
just
a
little
quiver
in
the
lip
,
turned
to
her
aunt
,
her
eyes
glowing
as
though
a
hidden
fire
had
leapt
suddenly
outward
.
And
yet
the
gesture
,
the
attitude
,
was
simplicity
and
unconsciousness
itself
.
Robert
had
never
heard
her
say
anything
so
intimate
before
.
Nor
had
he
ever
seen
her
so
inspired
,
so
beautiful
.
She
had
transmuted
the
conversation
at
a
touch
.
It
had
been
barbarous
prose
;
she
had
turned
it
into
purest
poetry
.
Only
the
noblest
souls
have
such
an
alchemy
as
this
at
command
,
thought
the
watcher
on
the
other
side
of
the
room
with
a
passionate
reverence
.
'
I
was
n't
thinkin
'
of
narrowin
'
the
Lord
down
to
ministers
,
'
said
Mrs.
Fleming
,
with
a
certain
loftiness
.
'
We
all
know
He
can
do
without
us
puir
worms
.
'
Then
,
seeing
that
no
one
replied
,
the
good
woman
got
up
to
go
.
Much
of
her
apparel
had
slipped
away
from
her
in
the
fervours
of
revivalist
anecdote
,
and
while
she
hunted
for
gloves
and
reticule
—
officiously
helped
by
the
younger
girls
—
Robert
crossed
over
to
Catherine
.
'
You
lifted
us
on
to
your
own
high
places
!
'
he
said
,
bending
down
to
her
;
'
I
shall
carry
your
story
with
me
through
the
fells
.
'
She
looked
up
,
and
as
she
met
his
warm
moved
look
a
little
glow
and
tremor
crept
into
the
face
,
destroying
its
exalted
expression
.
He
broke
the
spell
;
she
sank
from
the
poet
into
the
embarrassed
woman
.
'
You
must
see
my
old
man
,
'
she
said
,
with
an
effort
;
'
he
is
worth
a
library
of
sermons
.
I
must
introduce
him
to
you
.
'
He
could
think
of
nothing
else
to
say
just
then
,
but
could
only
stand
impatiently
wishing
for
Mrs.
Fleming
's
disappearance
,
that
he
might
somehow
appropriate
her
eldest
niece
.
But
alas
!
when
she
went
,
Catherine
went
out
with
her
,
and
reappeared
no
more
,
though
he
waited
some
time
.
He
walked
home
in
a
whirl
of
feeling
;
on
the
way
he
stopped
,
and
leaning
over
a
gate
which
led
into
one
of
the
river-fields
gave
himself
up
to
the
mounting
tumult
within
.
Gradually
,
from
the
half-articulate
chaos
of
hope
and
memory
,
there
emerged
the
deliberate
voice
of
his
inmost
manhood
.
'
In
her
and
her
only
is
my
heart
's
desire
!
She
and
she
only
if
she
will
,
and
God
will
,
shall
be
my
wife
!
'
He
lifted
his
head
and
looked
out
on
the
dewy
field
,
the
evening
beauty
of
the
hills
,
with
a
sense
of
immeasurable
change
—
'
Tears
Were
in
his
eyes
,
and
in
his
ears
The
murmur
of
a
thousand
years
.
'
He
felt
himself
knit
to
his
kind
,
to
his
race
,
as
he
had
never
felt
before
.
It
was
as
though
,
after
a
long
apprenticeship
,
he
had
sprung
suddenly
into
maturity
—
entered
at
last
into
the
full
human
heritage
.
But
the
very
intensity
and
solemnity
of
his
own
feeling
gave
him
a
rare
clear-sightedness
.
He
realised
that
he
had
no
certainty
of
success
,
scarcely
even
an
entirely
reasonable
hope
.
But
what
of
that
?
Were
they
not
together
,
alone
,
practically
,
in
these
blessed
solitudes
?
Would
they
not
meet
to-morrow
,
and
next
day
,
and
the
day
after
?
Were
not
time
and
opportunity
all
his
own
?
How
kind
her
looks
are
even
now
!
Courage
!
And
through
that
maidenly
kindness
his
own
passion
shall
send
the
last
,
transmuting
glow
.
CHAPTER
VII
The
following
morning
about
noon
,
Rose
,
who
had
been
coaxed
and
persuaded
by
Catherine
,
much
against
her
will
,
into
taking
a
singing
class
at
the
school
,
closed
the
school
door
behind
her
with
a
sigh
of
relief
,
and
tripped
up
the
road
to
Burwood
.
'
How
abominably
they
sang
this
morning
!
'
she
said
to
herself
with
curving
lip
.
'
Talk
of
the
natural
north-country
gift
for
music
!
What
ridiculous
fictions
people
set
up
!
Dear
me
,
what
clouds
!
Perhaps
we
sha
n't
get
our
walk
