purificationand
renunciation
,
—
a
meeting
of
two
souls
which
vibrated
in
unison
in
their
desire
for
the
good
and
the
noble
.
While
he
spoke
,
Anne
almost
believed
that
he
was
sincere
;
sincere
,
indeed
,
he
was
,
but
according
to
his
nature
,
not
hers
.
She
felt
the
tears
coming
into
her
eyes
,
and
a
vague
wish
to
throw
herself
into
his
arms
and
implore
him
to
cast
aside
his
selfish
habits
,
to
live
for
the
life
of
other
men
and
for
her
love
,
came
to
her
heart
.
But
when
,
suddenly
,
their
conversation
was
interrupted
by
the
entry
of
Edmund
Lewis
and
Madame
Elaguine
,
it
all
ebbed
back
,
till
her
whole
nature
seemed
to
burst
.
She
felt
that
he
did
not
know
what
he
was
saying
,
what
he
did
not
comprehend
what
he
was
wanting
;
she
felt
the
uselessness
of
saying
to
this
man
that
the
world
and
herself
were
waiting
for
him
to
love
them
,
that
her
whole
nature
was
sickening
for
want
of
one
with
which
to
vibrate
in
harmony
of
desire
for
the
good
and
the
noble
.
Cold
Fremley
,
the
sonnets
,
a
hundred
little
words
and
looks
which
had
made
the
chasm
between
them
,
returned
to
her
.
She
felt
once
more
alone
,
terribly
and
hopelessly
alone
.
And
still
,
when
she
met
her
cousin
Dick
,
and
realised
how
different
he
was
,
how
genuine
and
strong
and
passionate
for
good
,
she
could
not
help
experiencing
a
sort
of
repulsion
from
him
,
and
a
melancholy
,
hopeless
throwing
of
herself
back
on
to
the
unreal
Hamlin
.
She
felt
that
Richard
Brown
,
with
all
his
nobility
and
energy
of
nature
,
would
never
have
done
for
her
what
Hamlin
had
done
,
would
never
have
been
for
her
what
Hamlin
had
been
;
that
he
would
never
have
singled
her
out
,
her
a
mere
servant
,
and
guessed
that
in
her
there
was
a
soul
which
could
love
and
could
aspire
.
But
after
all
,
why
had
Hamlin
singled
her
out
?
and
what
had
he
guessed
in
her
,
what
had
he
hoped
from
her
?
That
line
of
Rossetti’s
,
which
Hamlin
admired
more
than
any
other
,
which
he
so
often
quoted
—
“
Beauty
like
hers
is
genius
,
”
—
returned
to
her
with
a
chill
;
and
she
felt
that
Hamlin
wanted
,
expected
from
her
that
sort
of
passion
which
he
had
spoken
of
to
revive
him
and
his
art
.
It
seemed
to
her
as
if
she
had
been
sold
in
the
slave‐market
,
and
were
being
told
“
now
love
.
”
CHAPTER
VI
.
RICHARD
BROWN
did
not
let
Madame
Elaguine
sit
at
his
feet
very
long
.
After
about
a
fortnight
of
extremely
assiduous
visits
at
the
Russian
lady’s
house
at
Kensington
,
during
which
he
poured
out
to
the
enthusiastic
little
woman
all
his
philanthropical
schemes
,
Richard
suddenly
gave
up
calling
,
and
even
avoided
meeting
Madame
Elaguine
at
other
houses
.
“
Why
have
you
deserted
Madame
Elaguine
so
suddenly
?
”
asked
Anne
of
her
cousin
.
To
confess
the
truth
,
Anne
was
rather
malicious
in
her
question
.
She
had
speedily
recognised
the
vanity
,
or
rather
the
self‐sufficiency
,
the
belief
in
his
own
irresistible
uniqueness
,
which
was
the
leaven
of
Cousin
Dick’s
virtues
,
and
she
had
been
amused
from
the
first
at
seeing
how
this
earnest
philanthropist
had
let
himself
be
caught
by
Madame
Elaguine’s
conscious
or
unconscious
instinct
of
flirtation
;
and
now
,
she
thought
,
Dick
has
suddenly
awaked
from
his
dream
of
having
fascinated
and
converted
her
.
Anne
smiled
as
she
asked
the
question
,
but
there
was
sadness
as
well
as
amusement
in
her
smile
.
In
his
way
—
his
blind
,
self‐satisfied
,
unselfish
way
—
Dick
was
as
vain
as
Hamlin
:
wherever
she
looked
vanity
and
hollowness
met
her
,
and
she
herself
could
not
even
conceive
what
vanity
was
.
“
Why
have
you
deserted
Madame
Elaguine
?
”
repeated
Anne
.
Brown
suddenly
raised
his
big
,
rough
,
black
head
from
the
review
which
he
had
been
mechanically
looking
at
,
and
answered
,
looking
straight
in
front
of
him
—
“
Don’t
speak
to
me
about
Madame
Elaguine
;
she
is
an
odious
woman
.
”
There
was
something
brief
and
silencing
in
his
tone
which
surprised
Anne
and
precluded
further
questions
.
“
In
fact
,
”
added
Richard
Brown
,
“
if
it
were
not
that
a
woman
like
you
will
never
even
understand
what
Madame
Elaguine
is
made
of
,
I
should
peremptorily
say
that
she
is
not
a
person
for
you
to
know
.
”
Anne
was
indignant
,
and
yet
,
at
the
same
time
,
a
little
shocked
.
“
Why
,
what
has
Madame
Elaguine
done
?
”
“
Done
!
”
answered
Brown
,
half
waiving
the
subject
,
and
half
insisting
upon
it
,
as
self‐important
men
frequently
do
.
“
Why
,
she
has
done
nothing
.
But
that
makes
no
difference
;
she’s
an
odious
woman
.
”
Anne
laughed
bitterly
.
The
whole
world
seemed
so
awry
,
every
one
seeing
everything
through
the
crooked
spectacles
of
his
own
vanity
.
Now
here
was
Dick
insinuating
evil
against
a
woman
because
he
had
been
such
a
big
baby
as
to
fancy
her
in
love
with
him
.
“
Men
are
very
unjust
!
”
cried
Anne
;
“
they
always
trump
up
some
mysterious
sin
to
justify
their
unreasonable
aversions
.
”
Brown
reddened
,
and
was
on
the
point
of
saying
something
.
But
he
checked
himself
,
and
merely
remarked
—
“
Oh
,
of
course
women
always
fancy
that
they
understand
each
other
better
than
a
man
can
.
”
“
So
they
can
!
A
woman
can
always
understand
another
woman
better
than
a
man
can
,
who
attributes
all
sorts
of
nasty
masculine
faults
to
women
,
or
suspects
imaginary
feminine
ones
,
when
he
doesn’t
see
clear
.
Oh
yes
,
I
know
:
every
woman
is
weak
,
vain
,
a
creature
of
impulse
and
passion
,
something
half‐way
only
between
the
man
and
the
child
,
as
I
read
in
a
French
paper
,
with
a
kind
of
sham
character
,
like
the
backbones
of
cartilage
or
jelly
of
some
lower
creatures
!
”
Brown
shook
his
head
.
“
Most
women
are
like
that
,
but
not
all
;
not
you
,
Anne
,
for
instance
.
”
“
Thank
you
,
”
answered
Anne
,
scornfully
.
“
But
all
women
,
at
least
all
noble
women
,
are
unable
to
judge
of
other
women
.
How
should
they
judge
?
It
is
only
a
man
,
or
a
base
woman
,
who
knows
of
the
mud
out
of
which
many
women
,
like
many
men
,
are
moulded
.
”
“
One
does
not
need
to
be
base
to
know
that
,
”
said
Anne
,
half
to
herself
;
and
she
thought
of
the
mud
which
she
had
discovered
in
her
own
silver
idol
.
“
I
don’t
think
we
are
alluding
to
the
same
thing
,
”
said
Cousin
Dick
,
turning
off
the
conversation
.
“
Mere
vanity
,
and
the
injustice
of
vanity
,
”
said
Anne
to
herself
,
and
her
pessimism
became
more
confirmed
.
But
later
,
although
she
continued
to
believe
quite
equally
in
Richard
Brown’s
vanity
,
she
began
to
suspect
that
there
had
been
in
this
coarse‐looking
man
a
movement
of
modesty
,
an
unwillingness
to
let
her
eyes
rest
upon
some
nasty
thing
which
he
had
seen
.
But
of
this
,
at
present
,
she
had
no
idea
,
and
Madame
Elaguine
,
although
she
did
not
find
much
in
common
with
her
,
became
for
Anne
another
victim
of
the
vanity
and
injustice
of
the
world
.
They
saw
a
good
deal
of
the
little
woman
now
.
Anne
thought
she
understood
her
thoroughly
,
and
owned
to
herself
that
she
had
not
understood
her
at
first
.
She
recognised
that
the
little
woman
had
much
more
character
than
she
had
at
first
imagined
;
and
the
impression
of
frailness
,
childishness
,
and
helplessness
which
something
in
Madame
Elaguine’s
appearance
,
manner
,
and
voice
had
at
first
given
her
,
wore
away
so
completely
that
she
could
scarcely
believe
it
had
ever
existed
.
Eccentric
and
irresponsible
she
still
seemed
,
always
rushing
from
one
enthusiasm
to
another
,
always
thirsting
for
excitement
;
but
Anne
found
that
instead
of
a
childish
girl
who
could
lean
upon
her
,
she
had
to
deal
with
a
woman
,
undisciplined
and
capricious
indeed
,
but
still
,
in
many
respects
,
more
of
a
woman
than
herself
.
She
was
flighty
and
giddy
like
her
own
little
girl
in
many
respects
,
and
fully
as
ignorant
of
many
things
;
but
she
had
a
knowledge
of
sides
of
life
which
Anne
instinctively
guessed
,
and
from
which
she
recoiled
.
With
an
extraordinary
love
of
the
beautiful
,
the
fantastic
,
and
the
ideal
,
which
,
as
it
made
her
dress
herself
in
queer
ingénue
little
costumes
,
also
made
her
mould
her
conduct
,
ideas
,
and
words
rather
theatrically
in
obedience
to
a
conception
of
something
striking
and
pretty
,
—
Madame
Elaguine
had
,
at
the
same
time
,
a
vein
—
no
,
Anne
thought
it
must
be
a
mere
exterior
dab
,
not
due
to
her
inner
nature
,
but
to
her
Russian
and
Continental
education
—
of
coarseness
,
which
surprised
and
pained
Miss
Brown
.
Once
or
twice
,
in
Anne’s
presence
,
she
alluded
to
things
in
a
manner
which
gave
Anne
a
shock
;
and
Anne
,
who
,
half
Italian
as
she
was
,
and
wholly
fearless
and
unprudish
,
would
ask
herself
what
right
she
had
had
to
feel
like
that
;
she
would
analyse
Madame
Elaguine’s
words
,
and
find
them
,
when
measured
by
a
Continental
standard
,
very
harmless
;
yet
somehow
,
though
she
told
herself
that
she
was
stupid
and
unjust
,
something
of
the
painful
impression
would
remain
.
Also
,
she
could
not
conceive
how
a
woman
could
like
to
sit
for
hours
,
as
Madame
Elaguine
did
,
on
the
score
of
spiritual
séances
,
with
a
man
like
Edmund
Lewis
.
She
never
heard
him
talk
on
anything
objectionable
to
the
Russian
;
and
yet
there
was
something
to
her
inconceivable
in
the
endurance
of
this
man
by
a
young
woman
.
Anne
came
to
the
conclusion
that
she
must
be
growing
horribly
prejudiced
and
unjust
;
and
the
less
she
could
sympathise
with
some
of
Madame
Elaguine’s
tastes
(
though
there
was
nothing
really
objectionable
in
them
)
the
more
did
she
force
herself
to
try
and
understand
,
and
make
allowance
for
,
and
help
the
little
woman
.
And
one
day
Anne’s
sympathies
were
really
enlisted
for
her
.
It
was
about
Christmas
,
and
Anne
had
prevailed
upon
Hamlin
to
accompany
her
and
Madame
Elaguine
to
a
pantomime
,
to
which
the
Russian
was
taking
her
little
girl
,
and
Anne
the
two
Chough
children
.
Anne
amused
herself
heartily
,
as
she
always
did
,
at
every
sort
of
theatrical
performance
,
with
the
love
of
shows
and
acting
in
her
Italian
blood
;
she
was
so
happy
laughing
with
the
children
,
while
Hamlin
talked
with
his
cousin
and
Chough
in
the
back
of
the
box
,
that
that
evening
long
remained
a
sort
of
oasis
in
the
dreariness
of
her
inner
life
.
There
was
a
tremendous
crush
in
the
lobbies
and
on
the
stairs
;
.
and
while
Chough
shoved
on
his
two
children
,
and
Hamlin
tried
to
make
way
through
the
crowd
for
his
frail
little
cousin
,
who
looked
as
if
she
would
be
knocked
over
and
trampled
like
a
feather
,
Anne
,
towering
through
the
throng
(
and
people
turned
to
look
at
that
magnificent
pale
face
,
set
in
crisp
black
hair
,
and
said
to
each
other
,
“
Look
there
;
that’s
Miss
Brown
,
the
famous
pre‐Raphaelite
beauty
”
)
,
held
Sacha
Elaguine’s
little
girl
close
in
front
of
her
,
calmly
making
the
crowd
divide
as
a
ship
divides
the
water
.
They
were
fairly
out
of
the
theatre
,
on
the
steps
looking
out
into
the
street
,
with
the
gas
burning
dim
in
the
fog
,
and
the
long
splashes
of
yellow
light
on
pavement
and
wet
cab‐tops
,
waiting
in
the
damp
cold
,
while
Chough
called
their
carriage
,
and
Madame
Elaguine
,
leaning
on
Hamlin’s
arm
,
the
two
little
Choughs
by
her
side
,
had
heaved
a
sigh
of
relief
,
and
exclaimed
—
“
Oh
,
how
delicious
it
is
to
be
in
the
cold
,
and
fog
,
and
dark
,
after
that
theatre
!
—
”
When
little
Hélène
Elaguine
,
who
was
holding
Anne’s
hand
,
and
see‐sawing
from
one
leg
to
another
—
while
staring
at
the
men
in
opera
hats
and
comforters
,
and
the
ladies
and
children
huddled
in
furs
,
and
the
policemen
and
cabmen
who
passed
in
front
—
suddenly
gave
a
piercing
shriek
,
and
threw
herself
into
Anne’s
arms
,
clinging
to
her
and
burying
her
head
in
her
pelisse
.
“
Good
heavens
!
what’s
the
matter
,
child
?
”
cried
Anne
,
mechanically
clasping
the
little
girl
round
the
waist
.
“
What’s
the
matter
?
”
cried
Hamlin
,
who
had
not
seen
this
action
.
But
Madame
Elaguine
had
let
go
his
arm
and
darted
forward
,
white
as
ashes
,
and
seized
her
child
from
Anne
,
and
cried
—
“
Let
us
go
!
let
us
go
!
”
in
an
agonised
voice
.
The
carriage
came
up
,
and
she
jumped
into
it
,
scarcely
giving
Hamlin
and
Anne
time
to
follow
,
and
leaving
Chough
and
his
children
amazed
before
the
theatre
door
.
The
carriage
stopped
at
her
door
in
Kensington
.
“
I
cannot
pass
this
night
alone
with
only
Helen
and
the
servants
!
I
cannot
,
I
cannot
!
”
And
Madame
Elaguine
burst
into
tears
,
strangely
intermingled
with
hysterical
laughs
.
“
They
want
to
take
my
child
away
;
they
are
trying
it
again
!
”
“
What
is
to
be
done
?
”
asked
Hamlin
.
“
I
will
stay
to‐night
with
Madame
Elaguine
,
”
said
Anne
,
with
decision
;
“
if
you
will
go
to
Hammersmith
and
tell
Aunt
Claudia’s
maid
that
your
cousin
was
feeling
ill
,
and
I
am
staying
with
her
till
to‐morrow
.
Help
Madame
Elaguine
out
,
will
you
?
”
Hamlin
lifted
his
cousin
out
of
the
carriage
,
while
Anne
took
charge
of
the
child
,
whom
its
nurse
carried
up
in
a
condition
of
lethargic
sleep
.
When
they
were
in
Madame
Elaguine’s
drawing‐room
,
the
Russian
took
the
child
in
her
arms
,
and
flinging
herself
on
a
sofa
,
burst
out
crying
,
her
sobs
interrupted
by
moaning
complaints
that
some
one
wanted
to
take
her
child
away
.
“
I
will
go
to
Hammersmith
now
,
and
leave
you
with
her
,
”
whispered
Hamlin
to
Anne
,
who
had
knelt
down
by
the
side
of
the
sofa
.
“
I
will
come
to‐morrow
morning
for
news
;
good
night
.
”
“
Good
night
,
”
answered
Anne
,
under
her
breath
.
But
Madame
Elaguine
heard
.
She
started
up
,
and
looking
wildly
about
—
“
Oh
,
don’t
leave
me
alone
yet
!
”
she
cried
.
“
Miss
Brown
will
remain
,
Sacha
,
”
said
Hamlin
.
“
Oh
,
don’t
leave
me
yet
,
Walter
!
”
repeated
Madame
Elaguine
.
“
I
am
afraid
—
I
am
afraid
of
Miss
Brown
.
”
“
I
think
you
had
better
remain
,
Mr
Hamlin
,
”
whispered
Anne
;
“
she
will
probably
be
quiet
in
a
minute
or
two
.
”
Hamlin
took
a
chair
near
the
table
,
and
looked
on
in
surprise
.
Madame
Elaguine
was
stretched
on
the
sofa
,
her
sleeping
child
pressed
close
to
her
;
her
little
head
,
with
its
short
pale
curls
,
thrown
back
;
her
eyes
half
closed
,
moaning
and
gasping
and
sobbing
;
and
Anne
,
kneeling
by
her
side
,
looking
anxiously
into
that
curious
,
convulsed
face
.
“
Do
you
think
she
is
going
to
faint
?
”
asked
Hamlin
of
his
cousin’s
Swiss
maid
,
who
stood
by
,
the
picture
of
self‐satisfied
composure
.
“
Oh
no
—
Monsieur
need
be
under
no
apprehension
.
Madame
often
had
de
ces
crises
;
Madame
was
often
frightened
like
that
.
It
was
the
first
time
since
Madame
was
in
England
,
but
it
was
quite
common
.
Madame
,
”
added
the
servant
quietly
,
“
has
probably
seen
her
black
man
—
”
“
What
black
man
?
”
asked
Hamlin
.
Sacha
Elaguine
had
suddenly
raised
herself
on
her
elbow
,
—
as
if
she
had
heard
the
maid’s
words
.
“
Take
Mademoiselle
Hélène
to
bed
,
Sophie
,
”
she
said
quietly
.
“
Shan’t
I
take
her
?
”
asked
Anne
.
“
Sophie
knows
how
to
manage
her
,
”
answered
Madame
Elaguine
;
and
sitting
up
,
she
drew
the
half‐wakened
child
close
to
her
and
kissed
her
with
convulsive
passion
.
Yet
she
let
the
maid
carry
off
the
little
one
,
and
merely
let
herself
slip
down
on
the
couch
with
a
moan
,
putting
aside
her
heavy
fur
and
passing
her
hands
through
her
pale
blond
hair
,
and
moaning
.
“
Don’t
you
think
you
had
better
go
?
”
said
Anne
to
Hamlin
.
“
I
will
look
after
your
cousin
.
”
She
would
loathe
to
have
Hamlin
sitting
there
,
looking
at
her
,
if
she
were
in
Madame
Elaguine’s
condition
.
Hamlin
rose
.
“
Stop
a
minute
,
”
said
his
cousin
faintly
,
turning
round
and
fixing
her
vague
northern
blue
eyes
on
him
;
“
stop
a
minute
,
Walter
.
”
Hamlin
remained
standing
,
his
eyes
involuntarily
fixed
upon
the
curious
spectacle
of
this
prostrate
little
figure
,
panting
and
gasping
as
if
going
to
die
,
and
half
unconscious
of
any
one’s
presence
—
her
cloak
thrown
back
on
the
sofa
,
her
hair
tangled
,
her
bare
arms
and
neck
(
for
it
was
one
of
her
caprices
always
to
go
the
play
,
even
to
the
pantomime
,
full
dress
)
half
covered
by
the
fur
of
her
pelisse
and
the
lace
of
her
dress
.
“
Stay
a
minute
;
I
want
to
explain
,
”
repeated
the
Russian
,
in
a
faint
voice
.
“
Anne
—
dear
Anne
—
where
are
you
?
”
“
Here
I
am
,
”
answered
Anne
,
in
her
cheerful
strong
voice
;
“
do
you
want
anything
,
dear
Madame
Elaguine
?
”
“
I
want
you
,
”
and
Sacha
flung
her
arms
round
Anne’s
neck
,
and
drew
her
dark
head
close
to
her
own
little
pale
yellow
one
.
Anne
felt
her
arms
tighten
passionately
round
her
,
her
little
hand
tighten
convulsively
round
her
neck
,
as
if
the
half‐fainting
woman
would
throttle
her
,
—
but
she
felt
no
fear
,
only
a
vague
,
undefinable
repulsion
.
Madame
Elaguine
sighed
a
long
sigh
of
relief
,
and
loosened
her
hold
;
but
she
kept
Anne’s
face
near
hers
,
and
kissed
her
with
hot
lips
on
the
forehead
.
“
Dear
Anne
,
”
she
said
,
“
forgive
me
.
”
“
There
is
nothing
to
forgive
,
”
said
Anne
,
trying
to
get
loose
and
to
rise
to
her
feet
.
But
Madame
Elaguine
kept
her
down
in
her
kneeling
posture
,
her
arm
always
round
Anne’s
shoulder
.
“
I
must
explain
it
all
to
you
,
”
she
said
,
in
a
slow
,
vague
tone
,
fixing
her
eyes
upon
Hamlin
.
“
Don’t
think
me
very
foolish
or
mad
;
but
I
thought
they
were
again
trying
to
carry
off
my
little
Helen
,
—
they
have
tried
before
,
—
and
they
keep
writing
to
me
,
telling
me
that
they
will
carry
off
Helen
or
kill
me
.
I
don’t
care
about
that
,
—
but
Helen
!
”
and
Madame
Elaguine
hid
her
face
in
Anne’s
iron‐black
hair
.
Hamlin
looked
on
as
in
a
dream
.
It
was
a
curious
sight
,
these
two
women
,
so
different
,
and
yet
both
so
young
and
beautiful
,
the
one
clinging
so
to
the
other
;
and
of
the
two
,
Madame
Elaguine
,
whom
he
had
never
thought
regularly
handsome
,
with
her
thin
,
strange
face
,
and
red
lips
,
and
wild
eyes
,
seemed
to
him
at
this
moment
the
stranger
and
more
beautiful
of
the
two
.
“
I
want
to
explain
it
all
,
”
said
Madame
Elaguine
.
“
Walter
,
give
me
that
box
—
the
little
Indian
inlaid
one
on
the
writing‐table
—
there
,
next
to
the
palm‐tree
.
”
Hamlin
brought
the
box
;
and
Madame
Elaguine
,
without
letting
go
her
hold
of
Anne
,
pressed
a
spring
and
opened
it
.
It
was
full
to
the
brim
of
letters
—
some
large
and
folded
in
their
envelopes
,
others
mere
scraps
of
paper
.
She
took
some
out
,
and
spread
them
on
her
knees
.
“
Look
,
”
she
said
,
letting
Anne
go
,
so
that
she
could
,
while
still
kneeling
,
see
the
papers
.
Anne
raised
herself
,
and
Hamlin
approached
.
“
Look
at
these
,
”
said
the
Russian
,
carefully
handling
the
soiled
and
crumpled
pieces
of
paper
;
“
these
are
to
me
what
love‐letters
are
to
other
women
,
—
they
are
my
life
—
my
past
,
and
my
future
.
”
And
she
fixed
her
eyes
wildly
on
Hamlin
.
“
As
other
women
have
lived
on
knowing
that
they
were
loved
and
would
always
be
loved
,
so
I
have
lived
,
ever
since
I
was
twenty
,
knowing
that
I
was
surrounded
by
invisible
enemies
,
who
would
either
put
a
sudden
end
to
my
life
or
protract
it
with
their
tortures
.
Ah
!
I
know
you
think
me
giddy
,
and
fickle
,
and
childish
;
but
you
don’t
know
that
I
try
to
lose
my
wits
in
order
that
I
may
gain
some
peace
!
”
her
voice
burst
out
hot
and
passionate
.
Anne
and
Hamlin
were
shyly
fingering
the
papers
;
they
were
all
in
the
same
hand
—
a
curious
,
crabbed
,
left‐handed
character
—
some
in
French
,
some
in
English
,
some
in
Russian
,
but
all
brief
and
to
the
same
purpose
:
initials
of
which
neither
Anne
nor
Hamlin
understood
the
meaning
at
the
head
,
and
below
a
threat
of
something
terrible
,
sometimes
left
vague
,
sometimes
outspoken
,
as
death
,
to
what
was
styled
the
traitress
.
Many
of
them
said
that
what
could
not
be
visited
on
the
mother
should
be
visited
on
the
children
,
and
all
concluded
with
saying
that
wherever
the
traitress
went
she
would
be
followed
by
invisible
eyes
and
footsteps
.
“
It
was
all
my
fault
in
the
beginning
,
”
began
Madame
Elaguine
,
covering
her
eyes
with
her
hands
;
“
but
I
was
very
young
,
ignorant
,
and
lonely
;
and
after
all
,
what
harm
did
I
do
?
I
had
been
married
when
I
was
only
seventeen
to
a
man
whom
I
thought
of
as
a
father
;
and
little
by
little
,
when
I
found
what
sort
of
man
he
was
—
how
base
,
and
coarse
,
and
cunning
—
I
began
to
feel
very
lonely
and
empty‐hearted
.
I
was
too
young
to
care
for
my
children
,
who
were
babies
,
and
I
was
a
baby
myself
.
But
it
was
all
so
lonely
,
and
the
world
so
mean
about
me
.
I
longed
to
be
of
some
use
,
and
able
to
sacrifice
myself
for
something
.
And
a
man
was
sent
across
my
path
,
twice
as
old
as
myself
,
whom
I
looked
upon
as
a
father
,
and
who
treated
me
as
a
child
;
and
this
man
used
to
talk
to
me
,
when
my
husband
left
me
all
alone
to
run
after
low
women
,
and
tell
me
all
about
the
miserable
condition
of
Russia
,
and
how
all
the
good
was
being
stamped
out
,
and
only
selfishness
,
and
injustice
,
and
corruption
triumphed
.
He
was
a
Nihilist
himself
,
and
one
of
their
chief
men
—
a
wonderful
man
,
who
seemed
so
cold
,
and
just
,
and
honest
.
So
,
little
by
little
,
he
converted
me
to
his
ideas
,
and
I
got
to
know
other
Nihilists
,
men
and
women
,
and
heard
a
great
deal
about
all
sorts
of
terrible
doings
.
I
felt
so
happy
and
heroic
—
I
was
a
fool
,
you
see
.
Then
I
suddenly
discovered
that
my
hero
was
quite
different
from
what
I
thought
—
that
he
had
gained
all
this
power
over
me
only
in
hopes
of
making
shameful
use
of
it
,
and
had
cornpromised
me
with
his
party
merely
to
make
me
his
mistress
.
When
I
understood
it
,
I
drove
him
away
,
and
threatened
to
tell
all
to
my
husband
;
and
then
he
swore
to
get
the
better
of
me
,
and
to
use
all
the
power
of
his
society
to
bring
me
,
as
he
called
it
,
to
reason
.
For
two
years
,
while
my
husband
was
alive
,
I
struggled
with
him
,
and
he
kept
on
threatening
and
hoping
to
frighten
me
.
But
when
my
husband
died
,
I
sold
all
the
Russian
property
,
and
was
preparing
to
leave
the
country
,
and
then
that
man
who
hated
me
,
just
because
in
his
way
he
had
loved
me
,
denounced
me
to
his
society
as
a
traitor
to
the
Nihilist
cause
,
and
as
a
person
to
be
hunted
down
.
And
so
,
ever
since
,
I
have
been
persecuted
with
all
the
might
of
the
Nihilists
wielded
by
this
man
;
and
although
I
have
been
hundreds
of
times
on
the
point
of
denouncing
him
and
his
associates
to
the
Government
,
I
have
never
done
so
,
because
I
am
still
a
Nihilist
at
heart
,
and
hate
the
Russian
Government
as
much
as
I
hate
him
;
and
he
,
who
knows
it
,
knows
I
cannot
defend
myself
,
and
employs
his
power
in
tormenting
me
.
”
A
convulsion
passed
across
Madame
Elaguine’s
face
;
it
dropped
,
like
that
of
a
dying
person
.
But
she
started
up
suddenly
,
and
went
on
with
her
story
.
For
ten
years
nearly
she
had
been
persecuted
in
this
mysterious
way
;
threatening
letters
had
come
to
her
by
all
manner
of
conveyances
,
—
brought
by
the
post
,
found
on
her
table
,
dropped
by
invisible
hands
at
her
feet
.
Attempts
had
been
made
to
poison
her
,
stopped
just
in
time
to
let
her
know
of
them
—
for
the
object
seemed
rather
to
make
her
life
unbearable
than
to
take
it
away
;
burning
spirits
of
wine
had
been
poured
under
her
door
;
twice
she
had
been
shot
at
.
But
the
most
terrible
part
of
the
persecution
had
come
when
they
had
discovered
her
passionate
love
for
her
little
girl
(
the
boy
,
now
at
school
,
they
had
somehow
let
alone
)
.
Several
times
,
in
various
places
(
for
she
was
always
on
the
move
,
flying
her
enemies
)
,
attempts
had
been
made
to
carry
off
the
child
;
once
,
at
Cannes
,
she
had
gone
to
the
window
just
in
time
to
see
a
man
snatch
up
the
child
,
who
was
playing
in
the
garden
,
and
to
fire
off
a
revolver
at
him
.
“
If
I
had
killed
my
child
,
”
said
Madame
Elaguine
,
savagely
,
“
it
would
have
been
better
than
to
see
her
carried
away
from
me
.
”
The
individual
who
had
made
these
attempts
she
described
as
being
very
dark
,
as
if
his
complexion
had
been
altered
by
overdoses
of
nitrate
of
silver
.
And
this
man
would
every
now
and
then
,
at
unexpected
moments
,
reappear
,
and
his
reappearance
meant
some
fresh
outrage
.
Poor
little
Helen
had
suddenly
seen
him
,
or
thought
she
had
seen
him
,
among
the
crowd
coming
out
of
the
theatre
;
and
this
had
produced
the
child’s
sudden
fit
.
“
Ever
since
I
have
come
to
London
,
”
said
Madame
Elaguine
,
“
I
have
been
comparatively
quiet
.
I
was
almost
forgetting
all
about
my
misfortunes
,
or
thinking
I
was
forgotten
—
and
here
it
begins
afresh
;
”
and
she
burst
into
tears
.
“
Oh
why
,
why
cannot
I
be
permitted
to
be
happy
for
a
little
while
—
only
a
little
while
?
”
she
cried
.
Anne
had
listened
awe‐stricken
.
She
had
always
thought
there
was
something
mysterious
about
this
giddy
little
woman
.
This
frightful
undeserved
calamity
struck
down
her
imagination
;
what
right
had
she
ever
to
feel
unhappy
in
the
presence
of
such
misery
as
this
?
“
Perhaps
,
”
she
suggested
timidly
—
“
perhaps
it
may
have
been
Helen’s
fancy
.
As
she
is
used
to
the
idea
of
this
black
man
,
she
may
have
imagined
,
being
tired
and
overexcited
from
the
play
,
that
she
saw
him
among
the
crowd
.
”
“
Oh
no
,
no
,
it
was
he
,
really
he
,
”
moaned
Madame
Elaguine
,
turning
over
on
the
sofa
and
burying
her
face
in
its
cushions
.
“
You
must
go
now
,
”
whispered
Anne
to
Hamlin
;
“
there
is
no
earthly
use
in
your
staying
.
I
will
sit
up
with
her
till
she
be
quiet
.
Good
night
.
”
“
Good
night
;
”
and
Hamlin
,
as
he
noiselessly
opened
the
door
,
cast
a
last
glance
at
that
singular
group
in
the
rose‐coloured
light
of
his
cousin’s
lamp
,
—
Sacha
,
with
her
fur
and
lace
all
in
disarray
,
gasping
on
the
couch
,
her
bare
throat
heaving
,
and
one
of
her
thin
white
arms
hanging
loosely
by
her
side
;
and
Anne
Brown
,
in
her
long
plain
white
dress
of
high
art
simplicity
of
cut
,
stooping
over
her
.
For
some
time
Anne
sat
by
Sacha’s
side
,
holding
the
Russian’s
hot
hand
.
“
Is
Walter
gone
?
”
suddenly
asked
Madame
Elaguine
,
turning
her
head
.
“
Mr
Hamlin
went
some
minutes
ago
.
”
Madame
Elaguine
raised
herself
and
sat
up
on
the
sofa
,
and
passed
her
little
hands
through
her
disorderly
yellow
hair
.
“
Give
me
a
kiss
,
Annie
,
”
she
said
.
Anne
stooped
down
and
kissed
her
.
“
Perhaps
I
had
better
go
to
bed
now
,
”
said
Madame
Elaguine
.
“
Shall
I
help
you
to
undress
?
”
asked
Anne
,
who
feared
that
Hamlin’s
cousin
might
have
another
fit
of
hysterics
.
“
Oh
no
;
call
Sophie
—
she
will
undress
me
.
”
On
Anne’s
call
,
the
Swiss
maid
emerged
from
the
next
room
.
“
Put
me
to
bed
,
”
ordered
Sacha
,
rising
and
leaning
on
the
arm
of
the
sofa
.
“
May
I
really
not
help
you
?
”
asked
Anne
,
for
the
maid
looked
so
indifferent
,
nay
,
so
sulky
,
and
she
seemed
to
handle
her
mistress
so
roughly
,
that
Miss
Brown
wondered
how
Madame
Elaguine
,
in
her
state
of
nerves
,
could
endure
to
be
helped
by
her
.
Anne
waited
till
Madame
Elaguine
was
in
bed
.
“
I
have
made
up
the
bed
for
Mademoiselle
in
the
spare
room
,
”
said
the
maid
,
looking
at
Anne
with
a
curious
insolence
;
and
she
led
her
up‐stairs
.
Anne
did
not
put
out
the
lamp
,
and
she
did
not
undress
.
She
could
not
sleep
;
and
she
felt
miserable
at
the
notion
of
Madame
Elaguine
being
left
all
alone
on
the
first
floor
.
What
if
the
little
woman
should
wake
up
with
a
panic
,
if
she
were
to
fancy
that
some
of
her
mysterious
persecutors
were
hiding
in
her
room
?
Anne
took
the
lamp
,
and
silently
descended
into
the
drawing‐room
.
All
was
quiet
.
She
sat
down
in
an
arm‐chair
,
and
made
up
the
dying
fire
.
She
felt
very
restless
and
unable
to
sleep
.
The
whole
scene
of
this
night
and
Sacha’s
revelations
had
shaken
her
nerves
and
gone
to
her
imagination
.
In
her
half‐drowsy
,
dreamy
condition
,
everything
seemed
to
her
strange
and
eerie
in
this
room
,
which
was
so
unlike
her
own
at
Hammersmith
.
It
was
full
of
pretty
things
,
but
in
great
confusion
;
Sacha’s
piano
was
still
open
,
with
a
book
of
Rubinstein’s
songs
on
it
.
There
was
a
heap
of
dog’s‐eared
French
novels
and
recent
volumes
of
poetry
on
the
table
,
and
the
whole
room
was
heavy
with
the
scent
of
some
Eastern
drug
and
of
Madame
Elaguine’s
Turkish
cigarettes
.
On
the
table
by
Anne’s
side
were
some
books
:
she
took
up
one
,
and
opened
it
at
random
;
it
was
Hamlin’s
new
volume
.
At
the
head
of
the
page
was
the
title
,
“
Desire
—
XII
.
Sonnets
,
”
and
all
along
the
margin
was
a
faint
line
in
pencil
,
and
the
words
,
in
a
childish
hand
,
“
How
beautiful
!
and
how
TRUE
!
”
BOOK
VII
.
CHAPTER
I
.
THE
notion
that
a
man
was
waiting
,
thirsting
for
her
love
,
would
have
been
enough
for
many
a
woman
in
Anne’s
position
—
many
a
woman
more
gifted
than
Anne
,
and
more
conscious
of
her
gifts
,
especially
if
the
man
who
thus
tacitly
implored
her
to
love
and
kindle
love
in
him
,
were
,
like
Hamlin
,
the
former
object
of
passionate
worship
.
But
with
Anne
Brown
it
was
different
.
Some
few
women
seem
to
be
born
to
have
been
men
,
or
at
least
not
to
have
been
women
.
To
them
love
,
if
it
come
,
will
be
an
absorbing
passion
,
but
a
passion
only
of
brief
duration
,
the
mere
momentary
diversion
into
a
personal
and
individual
channel
of
a
force
which
constitutes
the
whole
moral
and
intellectual
existence
,
whose
object
is
an
unattainable
ideal
of
excellence
,
and
whose
field
is
the
whole
of
the
world
in
which
there
is
injustice
,
and
callousness
,
and
evil
.
Such
women
may
be
very
happy
if
they
love
a
man
with
their
eyes
open
—
love
him
as
a
mere
secondary
concern
,
as
a
mere
trusty
companion
in
the
struggle
after
the
ideal
;
but
if
they
love
in
a
man
what
momentarily
seems
to
be
that
ideal
,
if
they
love
with
all
the
force
of
their
nature
,
a
terrible
reaction
of
vacuity
and
despair
must
soon
come
.
As
with
their
lovers
and
husbands
,
so
also
with
their
children
:
they
cannot
blissfully
concentrate
all
their
passion
upon
them
;
such
love
will
soon
become
narrow
and
bitter
for
them
.
They
are
indeed
sent
into
the
world
(
if
any
of
us
is
ever
sent
for
any
purpose
)
to
be
its
Joans
of
Arc
—
to
kindle
from
their
pure
passion
a
fire
of
enthusiasm
as
passionate
,
but
purer
than
it
is
given
to
men
to
kindle
:
they
are
not
intended
to
be
,
except
as
a
utilisation
of
what
is
fatally
wasted
,
either
wives
or
mothers
.
Masculine
women
,
mere
men
in
disguise
,
they
are
not
:
the
very
strength
and
purity
of
their
nature
,
its
intensity
as
of
some
undiluted
spirit
,
is
dependent
upon
their
cleaner
and
narrower
woman’s
nature
,
upon
their
narrowness
and
obstinacy
of
woman’s
mind
;
they
are
,
and
can
only
be
,
true
women
;
but
women
without
woman’s
instincts
and
wants
,
sexless
—
women
made
not
for
man
but
for
humankind
.
Anne
Brown
was
one
of
these
.
She
had
no
idea
that
she
was
of
this
strange
,
rare
stuff
of
heroines
;
she
had
no
notion
that
she
was
at
all
superior
to
the
ordinary
run
of
her
sex
;
indeed
it
was
her
perfect
ignorance
of
her
own
exceptional
nature
which
caused
most
of
her
wretchedness
,
making
her
at
once
more
impatient
with
the
weakness
of
others
,
and
more
impatient
with
her
own
difficulty
of
being
satisfied
.
Love
,
therefore
,
was
not
for
her
a
happiness
,
nor
an
ideal
,
nor
even
a
compensation
.
In
an
intensely
earnest
nature
like
hers
,
a
few
years
are
worth
a
lifetime
:
everything
is
understood
,
endured
much
sooner
;
all
that
can
be
felt
,
for
pleasure
or
pain
,
is
rapidly
exhausted
,
and
the
character
remains
early
,
with
all
its
human
lusts
and
vanities
burnt
out
like
the
gases
in
green
wood
,
ready
to
become
the
fuel
for
unindividual
ideal
passion
.
So
at
twenty‐three
,
Anne
had
,
so
to
speak
,
loved
out
her
love
,
her
passionate
adoring
love
,
as
she
had
dreamed
out
the
dreams
of
her
life
;
anything
that
might
still
come
would
be
but
a
faint
momentary
flicker
of
sentiment
,
a
detail
in
her
life
,
and
no
more
.
So
when
Hamlin
had
,
in
his
veiled
way
,
made
her
to
understand
what
he
hoped
,
what
he
desired
,
what
he
expected
,
what
(
she
could
not
help
saying
to
herself
)
he
had
bargained
for
,
of
her
,
—
the
thought
of
this
love
,
which
she
could
no
longer
feel
,
and
which
she
was
expected
to
give
—
of
this
love
which
was
to
be
merely
the
highest
selfish
pleasure
,
the
most
precious
(
because
the
most
refined
)
,
æsthetic
lust
of
a
selfish
æsthetic
voluptuary
,
Anne
experienced
a
sense
of
horror
and
self‐debasement
.
So
this
was
what
Hamlin
was
waiting
for
—
this
which
made
him
play
that
comedy
of
respectful
distant
adoration
,
of
freedom
of
choice
in
her
,
of
absence
of
all
rights
in
himself
—
this
that
her
solid
mass
of
soul
should
slowly
take
fire
,
and
smoulder
,
and
,
leaping
up
in
inextinguishable
flame
,
set
him
also
ablaze
.
Hitherto
Anne
had
been
unhappy
from
her
isolation
,
from
her
gradual
discovery
that
the
man
whom
she
had
loved
as
an
ideal
of
nobility
must
be
scorned
as
a
mere
weak‐spirited
and
morbid‐minded
artistic
automaton
,
—
a
mind
creating
beautiful
things
from
sheer
blind
necessity
,
as
a
violin
gives
out
beautiful
sounds
,
but
soulless
,
like
the
mere
instrument
of
wood
and
string
.
She
had
been
unhappy
because
she
was
alone
,
terribly
alone
;
but
now
she
was
unhappy
because
she
had
discovered
that
she
was
in
bondage
,
surrounded
by
walls
,
a
slave
.
And
now
that
she
yearned
for
the
icy
sense
of
isolation
with
which
she
had
lived
a
few
weeks
back
,
as
a
prisoner
in
a
fortress
might
yearn
for
the
desert
,
she
found
also
that
she
could
no
longer
drift
on
indifferent
,
enduring
the
present
,
and
hoping
for
the
future
.
She
could
no
longer
vaguely
say
to
herself
,
as
she
had
so
often
said
before
,
that
Hamlin
might
be
redeemed
,
that
he
might
yet
become
once
more
an
object
of
her
love
:
for
it
had
become
plain
to
her
that
her
future
was
settled
;
that
whatever
Hamlin
was
,
he
was
her
master
,
her
proprietor
;
and
that
,
lovable
or
not
lovable
to
her
nature
,
he
expected
,
counted
upon
her
love
.
This
new
feeling
made
Anne’s
life
—
that
life
which
was
so
completely
a
life
of
the
world
within
,
not
of
the
world
without
—
insupportable
in
a
new
way
.
Isolated
she
could
live
,
but
not
caged
.
Her
whole
soul
sickened
;
she
no
longer
thought
of
trying
to
influence
Hamlin
,
of
trying
to
help
others
;
all
her
energies
were
concentrated
upon
helping
,
upon
freeing
herself
.
“
There
is
something
the
matter
with
Anne
Brown
,
”
said
Sacha
one
day
to
her
cousin
.
“
What
is
it
?
”
“
Miss
Brown
always
looks
very
serious
,
”
answered
Hamlin
,
affecting
indifference
.
“
She
has
a
tragic
sort
of
face
even
when
she
is
quite
happy
.
It
is
one
of
her
great
peculiarities
,
and
to
me
her
charms
;
but
for
some
time
I
could
not
realise
that
she
was
really
happy
.
”
“
That’s
not
it
,
”
cried
Madame
Elaguine
,
impatiently
.
“
I
know
Anne
when
she’s
happy
and
Anne
when
she’s
unhappy
.
She
doesn’t
look
merely
grave
and
tragic
as
she
used
to
—
she
looks
perplexed
,
and
pained
,
and
worried
;
she’s
not
happy
in
her
life
.
”
“
Miss
Brown
,
”
said
Edmund
Lewis
,
in
his
drawling
,
clammy
voice
,
fixing
his
conquering
eyes
on
Madame
Elaguine
with
a
quiet
,
insolent
smile
—
“
Miss
Brown
is
a
woman
,
although
she
looks
like
a
goddess
;
and
even
goddesses
,
you
know
,
could
not
help
being
women
too
.
”
The
Russian
laughed
.
“
Always
the
fatuity
of
these
men
!
”
she
cried
,
and
turned
contemptuously
on
her
heel
.
Hamlin
did
not
answer
,
but
a
feeling
of
satisfaction
came
over
him
.
Anne
was
unhappy
;
and
in
a
nature
like
hers
,
he
said
to
himself
,
love
must
be
unhappiness
.
But
when
he
saw
Lewis
and
his
cousin
alone
he
felt
annoyed
;
and
he
fell
upon
their
spiritualistic
practices
with
a
perfect
rabidness
of
scorn
.
Anne
little
knew
that
she
was
watched
;
she
did
not
care
what
might
or
might
not
be
thought
of
her
by
Sacha
Elaguine
,
by
Chough
,
by
Edmund
Lewis
,
by
any
of
these
people
whom
she
despised
;
and
as
to
Hamlin
,
an
instinct
told
her
that
he
would
never
guess
what
it
was
that
troubled
her
.
So
Anne
kept
her
pain
to
herself
;
but
sometimes
the
despair
of
being
thus
enslaved
became
too
strong
for
endurance
,
and
she
longed
for
some
one
to
whom
to
confide
it
.
Every
word
,
every
look
,
every
piece
of
attention
,
every
show
of
indifference
on
Hamlin’s
part
,
seemed
to
mean
the
same
thing
:
that
he
expected
her
to
love
him
—
everything
seemed
to
allude
and
point
to
that
.
The
only
women
with
whom
she
was
at
all
really
intimate
were
the
Leighs
;
but
Anne
could
not
say
a
word
to
them
,
could
not
ask
their
advice
.
She
could
never
,
she
thought
,
make
either
of
these
girls
enter
into
her
situation
,
comprehend
her
feelings
,
make
her
understand
that
she
was
not
ungrateful
,
and
that
Hamlin
was
not
ungenerous
.
Yet
she
felt
the
terrible
need
of
some
one
to
counsel
her
—
to
take
some
of
the
frightful
responsibility
either
of
ingratitude
or
of
degradation
from
off
her
—
to
show
her
either
how
to
get
out
of
the
situation
,
or
how
to
submit
to
it
.
Such
a
person
there
was
—
a
person
who
might
help
her
,
who
might
even
understand
her
;
but
something
told
Anne
that
she
must
not
have
recourse
to
him
,
to
her
cousin
Dick
.
Perhaps
it
was
vanity
,
perhaps
a
knowledge
that
Richard
Brown
would
triumph
over
this
miserable
ending
to
what
he
had
always
opposed
;
a
fear
lest
he
might
misunderstand
Hamlin
,
and
bespatter
what
was
the
one
beautiful
thing
in
his
life
—
his
raising
up
of
Anne
.
For
it
was
a
curious
point
that
,
contemptible
as
Hamlin
had
become
to
Anne
,
and
unworthy
in
her
own
eyes
of
her
love
,
she
could
not
endure
the
idea
of
any
one
else
understanding
this
,
of
any
one
else
attacking
Hamlin
.
None
of
them
,
she
felt
,
could
understand
what
Hamlin
had
done
for
her
;
what
he
had
been
—
nay
,
what
,
as
a
beloved
piece
of
the
past
,
he
still
was
—
to
her
;
only
she
could
measure
what
she
owed
to
him
,
and
only
she
,
therefore
,
might
weigh
the
bad
in
him
against
the
good
.
For
even
when
she
was
most
overcome
with
the
sense
of
the
moral
prison
which
was
closing
round
her
,
to
cripple
her
life
and
break
her
spirit
,
Anne
could
not
wish
that
the
past
had
been
otherwise
—
that
she
had
never
met
Hamlin
,
never
contracted
a
debt
towards
him
,
never
loved
him
.
Bleak
and
dark
as
might
be
the
present
,
she
would
not
ever
have
given
up
that
past
,
—
that
sudden
flaming
up
of
her
life
,
that
one
spell
of
hope
and
trustfulness
,
and
admiration
and
love
,
which
must
serve
her
for
all
her
existence
:
to
have
had
that
was
always
sweet
,
to
have
been
given
it
was
always
a
reason
for
gratitude
.
Moreover
,
Anne
could
not
now
contemplate
what
she
would
have
been
had
she
never
met
Hamlin
.
To
her
stern
and
idealising
nature
,
to
have
remained
without
knowledge
,
without
responsibility
,
without
sympathy
,
without
sense
of
right
or
wrong
,
morally
only
half
developed
,
only
half
alive
,
as
she
had
been
during
her
earlier
girlhood
,
was
unendurable
.
She
would
not
,
for
all
the
pain
and
humiliation
which
it
might
cost
her
,
have
forfeited
the
finer
fibre
,
the
clearer
vision
which
had
shown
her
that
she
was
indebted
therefor
to
a
man
whom
she
despised
.
No
;
she
could
not
,
even
in
thought
,
relinquish
the
past
.
But
what
of
the
future
?
The
question
laid
hold
of
Anne’s
mind
,
and
for
some
weeks
rode
it
like
an
incubus
.
How
many
of
us
have
thus
let
a
hopeless
problem
get
hold
of
our
whole
nature
,
and
make
it
move
,
day
after
day
,
week
after
week
,
in
the
frightful
treadmill
of
its
vicious
circle
?
Every
night
Anne
lay
down
to
sleep
with
her
doubts
half
solved
,
her
mind
half
made
up
,
only
to
wake
up
the
next
day
with
all
her
doubts
reinforced
and
all
her
resolutions
scattered
.
Such
a
condition
is
not
due
to
weakness
or
indecision
of
character
;
nay
,
it
is
probably
only
the
earnest
minds
,
the
most
capable
of
serious
decisions
,
who
can
thus
go
on
living
in
suspense
,
resisting
the
temptation
of
a
decision
,
enduring
the
monotonous
recurrence
of
a
struggle
of
motives
and
of
thought
;
it
is
the
effort
,
this
frightful
mental
instability
,
at
retaining
moral
life
where
life
would
easily
be
extinguished
;
it
is
the
weary
tramp
up
and
down
with
cold
cramped
limbs
of
the
prisoner
who
knows
that
were
he
to
stop
,
were
he
to
lie
down
,
he
would
have
rest
,
but
also
death
.
Almost
unintentionally
Anne
kept
asking
herself
what
steps
she
could
take
to
be
free
.
She
used
,
in
moments
of
weakness
and
weariness
of
heart
,
to
go
over
schemes
of
independence
,
to
indulge
in
day‐dreams
of
self‐supporting
liberty
.
She
who
,
a
few
months
ago
,
had
dreamed
of
raising
the
lower
classes
,
of
spreading
higher
knowledge
and
ideals
among
them
,
of
awakening
the
more
fortunate
parts
of
society
to
their
sense
of
responsibility
,
—
she
whose
whole
energy
had
been
taken
up
in
silent
projects
for
bettering
,
no
matter
how
little
,
the
world
,
bettering
the
poor
by
making
them
think
and
enjoy
,
bettering
the
rich
by
making
them
feel
;
giving
the
shop‐girls
of
the
Women’s
Club
a
glimpse
into
the
world
of
imagination
,
and
giving
Hamlin
a
glimpse
into
the
world
of
reality
,
—
she
was
now
thinking
of
how
she
might
earn
her
bread
,
how
she
might
live
as
a
teacher
or
a
governess
.
Talking
with
the
Leighs
and
her
cousin
,
she
used
shyly
,
and
with
a
desire
to
deceive
very
foreign
to
her
,
to
put
questions
,
seemingly
purely
abstract
,
as
to
what
a
poor
girl
with
a
certain
amount
of
education
could
best
do
—
as
to
what
was
required
of
a
schoolmistress
or
a
governess
.
And
,
while
telling
herself
that
it
was
all
useless
—
that
she
was
bound
by
the
past
,
however
much
she
might
try
and
cut
herself
loose
from
the
present
—
Anne
mechanically
gave
her
time
to
studying
,
no
longer
to
be
more
worthy
of
Hamlin
,
or
more
useful
in
the
world
,
but
to
enable
herself
to
gain
a
livelihood
if
.
.
.
Ah
!
well
,
when
she
asked
herself
plainly
what
that
“
if
”
meant
,
she
had
to
answer
that
she
scarcely
knew
:
if
the
slave‐owner
should
say
to
his
slave
,
“
Go
—
I
am
tired
of
you
;
”
if
the
man
who
had
bought
the
precious
statue
or
picture
should
weary
of
it
and
wish
to
exchange
it
.
And
Anne
had
to
admit
to
herself
that
Hamlin
was
not
the
man
to
feel
or
act
like
this
.
Nay
sometimes
,
when
she
had
indulged
in
a
day‐dream
of
freedom
—
when
she
had
let
herself
go
to
the
vain
belief
that
Hamlin
would
one
day
awaken
to
the
sense
that
this
woman
was
not
his
ideal
,
as
she
had
awakened
to
the
sense
that
he
was
not
hers
—
when
she
had
worked
out
the
details
of
her
half‐starving
life
of
independence
,
her
return
to
her
old
drudgery
(
but
with
a
freer
spirit
)
,
her
hard
struggle
as
a
teacher
of
little
children
,
or
a
shop‐girl
,
or
at
best
a
schoolmistress
,
—
the
recollection
of
the
past
would
suddenly
overpower
her
—
the
recollection
of
what
she
had
been
,
what
she
had
hoped
—
the
recollection
of
her
love
of
that
debt
which
she
was
now
devising
a
means
of
paying
off
,
—
and
poor
Anne
would
burst
into
tears
.
But
that
debt
,
she
felt
,
could
not
be
paid
off
.
She
might
support
herself
in
the
future
,
but
how
could
she
get
rid
of
the
past
?
If
she
lived
on
dry
bread
for
the
rest
of
her
life
,
Hamlin
would
still
have
done
for
her
what
she
believed
that
no
other
man
had
ever
done
for
a
woman
;
if
she
could
save
up
every
penny
of
earnings
and
place
before
him
all
that
he
had
ever
spent
for
her
education
,
would
it
not
be
the
basest
,
vilest
mockery
and
cheat
,
and
could
she
repay
the
love
which
he
had
felt
,
the
trustfulness
which
he
had
shown
?
Repay
it
she
never
could
;
for
love
and
trustfulness
she
could
not
give
in
return
;
and
she
must
ever
remain
in
his
debt
,
remain
his
to
do
his
bidding
.
And
yet
at
times
the
question
arose
in
her
,
What
right
had
she
to
pay
a
debt
at
the
price
of
her
honour
?
To
become
Hamlin’s
wife
when
she
did
not
love
him
,
to
pretend
love
which
she
did
not
feel
,
this
was
in
Anne’s
eyes
,
measured
by
her
stern
measure
of
right
and
wrong
,
a
prostitution
;
and
could
it
be
honourable
to
let
herself
be
dishonoured
?
But
Anne
cast
this
thought
behind
her
;
Hamlin
,
by
binding
only
himself
and
leaving
her
free
,
had
by
his
chivalrous
generosity
really
bound
her
;
if
to
possess
her
,
and
as
much
of
her
life
and
love
as
she
could
give
,
would
make
Hamlin
happy
,
he
had
a
right
to
it
.
The
strain
,
Anne
felt
,
was
becoming
too
much
for
her
;
this
question
of
her
own
future
,
of
her
own
dignity
and
undignity
,
was
swallowing
up
her
whole
nature
,
neither
more
nor
less
than
the
nature
of
Hamlin
and
his
friend
was
swallowed
up
by
their
æsthetical
feelings
.
Anne
recognised
,
with
terror
,
that
she
was
deteriorating
;
that
she
was
beginning
to
care
nothing
for
others
in
this
preoccupation
about
herself
;
and
that
such
a
thing
should
happen
—
that
she
too
should
lose
her
more
generous
feelings
—
was
a
greater
degradation
than
any
other
which
could
come
over
her
.
This
shame
and
this
misfortune
alone
it
was
in
her
power
to
prevent
,
and
she
determined
to
prevent
it
.
She
did
her
best
to
put
aside
all
questions
of
her
own
future
,
to
accustom
herself
to
wait
for
what
might
happen
,
what
she
might
be
summoned
to
do
,
and
she
threw
herself
with
more
ardour
than
ever
(
trying
to
escape
from
the
contamination
,
not
merely
,
as
before
,
of
the
selfishness
of
others
,
but
of
her
own
)
into
such
studies
and
questions
as
concerned
wider
interests
than
her
own
.
Anne’s
earnest
nature
,
lacking
the
happy
faculty
of
being
absorbed
by
present
feelings
,
had
always
been
very
subject
to
a
dull
moral
pain
at
the
evil
in
the
world
,
storms
from
the
great
Sahara
of
misery
which
would
lower
over
her
own
oasis
of
happiness
,
clogging
its
atmosphere
and
blighting
its
greenness
.
But
now
her
efforts
not
to
brood
over
her
own
unhappiness
,
resulted
merely
in
her
brooding
almost
unceasingly
over
the
unhappiness
of
others
.
And
gradually
,
to
the
sense
of
the
misery
of
the
world
,
became
superadded
the
terrible
sense
of
the
injustice
of
that
world’s
arrangements
:
from
being
indignant
with
the
callousness
of
men
,
Anne
became
indignant
,
with
the
same
cold
and
sombre
indignation
,
at
the
callousness
of
God
.
She
felt
herself
alone
,
isolated
,
separated
not
only
from
the
men
and
women
surrounding
her
,
but
separated
in
spirit
from
the
whole
scheme
of
things
.
And
to
her
,
the
greater
part
of
whose
life
was
in
her
aspirations
,
this
gradual
removal
of
anything
to
which
to
aspire
,
this
gradual
destruction
of
every
ideal
with
which
to
sympathise
,
such
a
condition
of
moral
loneliness
was
,
as
Anne
once
said
to
her
cousin
,
worse
than
death
.
Richard
Brown
had
somehow
,
that
day
,
been
more
sympathising
with
Anne
than
usual
.
Had
she
not
been
too
much
engrossed
,
she
might
have
noticed
that
he
watched
her
face
,
listened
to
her
words
,
not
merely
now
with
gentleness
and
friendliness
,
but
with
a
kind
of
suppressed
admiration
and
wonder
.
“
Nothing
is
so
bad
as
death
,
”
answered
Richard
;
“
because
,
once
dead
,
we
can
no
longer
feel
,
we
can
no
longer
judge
,
or
sympathise
,
or
strive
.
”
Anne
looked
up
from
the
frock
which
she
was
making
for
one
of
the
little
Choughs
,
whose
wardrobe
was
getting
into
a
lamentable
condition
.
“
I
don’t
mean
that
we
are
so
useful
when
we
are
dead
,
but
we
are
less
unhappy
.
You
talk
of
feeling
,
and
sympathising
,
and
judging
,
and
striving
:
what
can
we
feel
,
and
sympathise
with
,
and
judge
,
except
the
miserableness
of
men
,
and
their
weakness
and
badness
,
and
the
horrible
arrangement
of
the
world
which
makes
them
such
?
and
after
what
can
we
strive
,
except
vainly
to
release
ourselves
from
that
abominable
order
of
the
world
?
”
Richard
Brown
looked
at
Anne
for
a
moment
in
silence
.
He
was
a
singularly
unæsthetic
man
,
and
confusing
beauty
with
mere
utility
,
he
had
never
well
understood
the
beauty
which
artistic
people
chose
to
see
in
this
strange
,
uncommon
,
sombre
face
,
so
unlike
that
of
any
one
else
,
and
which
seemed
to
have
no
prototype
either
in
man
or
woman
.
But
now
he
felt
that
Anne
was
beautiful
,
and
very
beautiful
.
“
All
mankind
is
gradually
releasing
itself
from
what
you
call
this
evil
arrangement
of
the
world
,
”
he
answered
;
“
or
rather
,
the
very
perception
that
such
an
arrangement
is
evil
is
teaching
mankind
,
—
I
mean
all
that
much
of
mankind
which
makes
the
rest
move
on
,
to
rearrange
the
world
,
and
out
of
the
bad
to
make
the
good
.
”
Anne
shrugged
her
shoulders
contemptuously
.
“
Why
was
the
arrangement
made
if
it
was
evil
?
”
she
asked
.
“
Because
,
”
said
her
cousin
,
watching
her
face
as
he
let
his
words
drop
—
“
because
there
was
no
sense
of
good
and
evil
at
the
beginning
;
because
it
is
only
man
who
has
conceived
that
the
pleasure
of
others
is
good
,
and
the
pain
of
others
is
evil
;
and
because
,
therefore
,
only
man
can
be
expected
to
reorganise
the
world
so
that
the
good
of
others
be
sought
and
the
evil
of
others
avoided
.
It
is
only
man
living
with
men
,
and
feeling
their
miseries
in
his
own
,
and
their
happiness
in
his
own
,
who
can
be
anxious
for
justice
and
impatient
of
injustice
.
How
can
you
expect
it
of
nature
?
”
Anne
did
not
answer
,
but
remained
for
a
moment
with
her
hands
folded
over
her
work
,
looking
out
of
the
window
.
Outside
there
was
only
yellow
fog
,
and
leafless
spectral
branches
;
yet
her
onyx‐grey
eyes
opened
slowly
,
as
if
she
were
taking
in
some
faint
but
glorious
vision
.
“
What
right
have
you
