disappointedby
the
escape
of
her
prey
,
and
raised
a
sudden
wail
.
He
carried
her
to
her
nurse
,
even
forgetting
to
kiss
the
little
wet
cheek
,
ascertained
that
Catherine
was
not
in
the
house
,
and
then
came
back
,
miserable
,
with
the
bewilderment
of
sleep
still
upon
him
.
A
sense
of
wrong
rose
high
within
him
.
How
could
she
have
left
him
thus
without
a
word
?
It
had
been
her
way
,
sometimes
,
during
the
summer
,
to
go
out
early
to
one
or
other
of
the
sick
folk
who
were
under
her
especial
charge
.
Possibly
she
had
gone
to
a
woman
,
just
confined
,
on
the
farther
side
of
the
village
,
who
yesterday
had
been
in
danger
.
But
,
whatever
explanation
he
could
make
for
himself
,
he
was
none
the
less
irrationally
wretched
.
He
bathed
,
dressed
,
and
sat
down
to
his
solitary
meal
in
a
state
of
tension
and
agitation
indescribable
.
All
the
exaltation
,
the
courage
of
the
night
,
was
gone
.
Nine
o'clock
,
ten
o'clock
,
and
no
sign
of
Catherine
.
'
Your
mistress
must
have
been
detained
somewhere
,
'
he
said
as
quietly
and
carelessly
as
he
could
to
Susan
,
the
parlour-maid
,
who
had
been
with
them
since
their
marriage
.
'
Leave
breakfast
things
for
one
.
'
'
Mistress
took
a
cup
of
milk
when
she
went
out
,
cook
says
,
'
observed
the
little
maid
with
a
consoling
intention
,
wondering
the
while
at
the
rector
's
haggard
mien
and
restless
movements
.
'
Nursing
other
people
indeed
!
'
she
observed
severely
downstairs
,
glad
as
we
all
are
at
times
to
pick
holes
in
excellence
which
is
inconveniently
high
.
'
Missis
had
a
deal
better
stay
at
home
and
nurse
him
!
'
The
day
was
excessively
hot
.
Not
a
leaf
moved
in
the
garden
;
over
the
cornfield
the
air
danced
in
long
vibrations
of
heat
;
the
woods
and
hills
beyond
were
indistinct
and
colourless
.
Their
dog
Dandy
lay
sleeping
in
the
sun
,
waking
up
every
now
and
then
to
avenge
himself
on
the
flies
.
On
the
far
edge
of
the
cornfield
reaping
was
beginning
.
Robert
stood
on
the
edge
of
the
sunk
fence
,
his
blind
eyes
resting
on
the
line
of
men
,
his
ear
catching
the
shouts
of
the
farmer
directing
operations
from
his
gray
horse
.
He
could
do
nothing
.
The
night
before
,
in
the
wood-path
,
he
had
clearly
mapped
out
the
day
's
work
.
A
mass
of
business
was
waiting
,
clamouring
to
be
done
.
He
tried
to
begin
on
this
or
that
,
and
gave
up
everything
with
a
groan
,
wandering
out
again
to
the
gate
on
to
the
wood-path
to
sweep
the
distances
of
road
or
field
with
hungry
straining
eyes
.
The
wildest
fears
had
taken
possession
of
him
.
Running
in
his
head
was
a
passage
from
The
confessions
,
describing
Monica
's
horror
of
her
son
's
heretical
opinions
.
'
Shrinking
from
and
detesting
the
blasphemies
of
his
error
,
she
began
to
doubt
whether
it
was
right
in
her
to
allow
her
son
to
live
in
her
house
and
to
eat
at
the
same
table
with
her
;
'
and
the
mother
's
heart
,
he
remembered
,
could
only
be
convinced
of
the
lawfulness
of
its
own
yearning
by
a
prophetic
vision
of
the
youth
's
conversion
.
He
recalled
,
with
a
shiver
,
how
in
the
life
of
Madame
Guyon
,
after
describing
the
painful
and
agonising
death
of
a
kind
but
comparatively
irreligious
husband
,
she
quietly
adds
,
'
As
soon
as
I
heard
that
my
husband
had
just
expired
,
I
said
to
Thee
,
O
my
God
,
Thou
hast
broken
my
bonds
,
and
I
will
offer
to
Thee
a
sacrifice
of
praise
!
'
He
thought
of
John
Henry
Newman
,
disowning
all
the
ties
of
kinship
with
his
younger
brother
because
of
divergent
views
on
the
question
of
baptismal
regeneration
;
of
the
long
tragedy
of
Blanco
White
's
life
,
caused
by
the
slow
dropping-off
of
friend
after
friend
,
on
the
ground
of
heretical
belief
.
What
right
had
he
,
or
any
one
in
such
a
strait
as
his
,
to
assume
that
the
faith
of
the
present
is
no
longer
capable
of
the
same
stern
self-destructive
consistency
as
the
faith
of
the
past
?
He
knew
that
to
such
Christian
purity
,
such
Christian
inwardness
as
Catherine
's
,
the
ultimate
sanction
and
legitimacy
of
marriage
rest
,
both
in
theory
and
practice
,
on
a
common
acceptance
of
the
definite
commands
and
promises
of
a
miraculous
revelation
.
He
had
had
a
proof
of
it
in
Catherine
's
passionate
repugnance
to
the
idea
of
Rose
's
marriage
with
Edward
Langham
.
Eleven
o'clock
striking
from
the
distant
tower
.
He
walked
desperately
along
the
wood-path
,
meaning
to
go
through
the
copse
at
the
end
of
it
towards
the
park
,
and
look
there
.
He
had
just
passed
into
the
copse
,
a
thick
interwoven
mass
of
young
trees
,
when
he
heard
the
sound
of
the
gate
which
on
the
farther
side
of
it
led
on
to
the
road
.
He
hurried
on
;
the
trees
closed
behind
him
;
the
grassy
path
broadened
;
and
there
,
under
an
arch
of
young
oak
and
hazel
,
stood
Catherine
,
arrested
by
the
sound
of
his
step
.
He
,
too
,
stopped
at
the
sight
of
her
;
he
could
not
go
on
.
Husband
and
wife
looked
at
each
other
one
long
quivering
moment
.
Then
Catherine
sprang
forward
with
a
sob
and
threw
herself
on
his
breast
.
They
clung
to
each
other
,
she
in
a
passion
of
tears
—
tears
of
such
self-abandonment
as
neither
Robert
nor
any
other
living
soul
had
ever
seen
Catherine
Elsmere
shed
before
.
As
for
him
he
was
trembling
from
head
to
foot
,
his
arms
scarcely
strong
enough
to
hold
her
,
his
young
worn
face
bent
down
over
her
.
'
Oh
,
Robert
!
'
she
sobbed
at
last
,
putting
up
her
hand
and
touching
his
hair
,
'
you
look
so
pale
,
so
sad
.
'
'
I
have
you
again
!
'
he
said
simply
.
A
thrill
of
remorse
ran
through
her
.
'
I
went
away
,
'
she
murmured
,
her
face
still
hidden
—
'
I
went
away
,
because
when
I
woke
up
it
all
seemed
to
me
,
suddenly
,
too
ghastly
to
be
believed
;
I
could
not
stay
still
and
bear
it
.
But
,
Robert
,
Robert
,
I
kissed
you
as
I
passed
!
I
was
so
thankful
you
could
sleep
a
little
and
forget
.
I
hardly
know
where
I
have
been
most
of
the
time
—
I
think
I
have
been
sitting
in
a
corner
of
the
park
,
where
no
one
ever
comes
.
I
began
to
think
of
all
you
said
to
me
last
night
—
to
put
it
together
—
to
try
and
understand
it
,
and
it
seemed
to
me
more
and
more
horrible
!
I
thought
of
what
it
would
be
like
to
have
to
hide
my
prayers
from
you
—
my
faith
in
Christ
—
my
hope
of
heaven
.
I
thought
of
bringing
up
the
child
—
how
all
that
was
vital
to
me
would
be
a
superstition
to
you
,
which
you
would
bear
with
for
my
sake
.
I
thought
of
death
,
'
and
she
shuddered
—
'
your
death
,
or
my
death
,
and
how
this
change
in
you
would
cleave
a
gulf
of
misery
between
us
.
And
then
I
thought
of
losing
my
own
faith
,
of
denying
Christ
.
It
was
a
nightmare
—
I
saw
myself
on
a
long
road
,
escaping
with
Mary
in
my
arms
,
escaping
from
you
!
Oh
,
Robert
!
it
was
n't
only
for
myself
,
'
—
and
she
clung
to
him
as
though
she
were
a
child
,
confessing
,
explaining
away
,
some
grievous
fault
hardly
to
be
forgiven
.
'
I
was
agonised
by
the
thought
that
I
was
not
my
own
—
I
and
my
child
were
Christ
's
.
Could
I
risk
what
was
His
?
Other
men
and
women
had
died
,
had
given
up
all
for
His
sake
.
Is
there
no
one
now
strong
enough
to
suffer
torment
,
to
kill
even
love
itself
rather
than
deny
Him
—
rather
than
crucify
Him
afresh
?
'
She
paused
,
struggling
for
breath
.
The
terrible
excitement
of
that
bygone
moment
had
seized
upon
her
again
and
communicated
itself
to
him
.
'
And
then
—
and
then
,
'
she
said
sobbing
,
'
I
do
n't
know
how
it
was
.
One
moment
I
was
sitting
up
looking
straight
before
me
,
without
a
tear
,
thinking
of
what
was
the
least
I
must
do
,
even
—
even
—
if
you
and
I
stayed
together
—
of
all
the
hard
compacts
and
conditions
I
must
make
—
judging
you
all
the
while
from
a
long
,
long
distance
,
and
feeling
as
though
I
had
buried
the
old
self
—
sacrificed
the
old
heart
—
for
ever
!
And
the
next
I
was
lying
on
the
ground
crying
for
you
,
Robert
,
crying
for
you
!
Your
face
had
come
back
to
me
as
you
lay
there
in
the
early
morning
light
.
I
thought
how
I
had
kissed
you
—
how
pale
and
gray
and
thin
you
looked
.
Oh
,
how
I
loathed
myself
!
That
I
should
think
it
could
be
God
's
will
that
I
should
leave
you
,
or
torture
you
,
my
poor
husband
!
I
had
not
only
been
wicked
towards
you
—
I
had
offended
Christ
.
I
could
think
of
nothing
as
I
lay
there
—
again
and
again
—
but
"
Little
children
,
love
one
another
;
little
children
,
love
one
another
.
"
Oh
,
my
beloved
,
'
—
and
she
looked
up
with
the
solemnest
,
tenderest
smile
breaking
on
the
marred
tear-stained
face
,
—
'
I
will
never
give
up
hope
,
I
will
pray
for
you
night
and
day
.
God
will
bring
you
back
.
You
cannot
lose
yourself
so
.
No
,
no
!
His
grace
is
stronger
than
our
wills
.
But
I
will
not
preach
to
you
—
I
will
not
persecute
you
—
I
will
only
live
beside
you
—
in
your
heart
—
and
love
you
always
.
Oh
,
how
could
I
—
how
could
I
have
such
thoughts
!
'
And
again
she
broke
off
,
weeping
,
as
if
to
the
tender
torn
heart
the
only
crime
that
could
not
be
forgiven
was
its
own
offence
against
love
.
As
for
him
he
was
beyond
speech
.
If
he
had
ever
lost
his
vision
of
God
,
his
wife
's
love
would
that
moment
have
given
it
back
to
him
.
'
Robert
,
'
she
said
presently
,
urged
on
by
the
sacred
yearning
to
heal
,
to
atone
,
'
I
will
not
complain
—
I
will
not
ask
you
to
wait
.
I
take
your
word
for
it
that
it
is
best
not
,
that
it
would
do
no
good
.
The
only
hope
is
in
time
—
and
prayer
.
I
must
suffer
,
dear
,
I
must
be
weak
sometimes
;
but
oh
,
I
am
so
sorry
for
you
!
Kiss
me
,
forgive
me
,
Robert
;
I
will
be
your
faithful
wife
unto
our
lives
'
end
.
'
He
kissed
her
,
and
in
that
kiss
,
so
sad
,
so
pitiful
,
so
clinging
,
their
new
life
was
born
.
CHAPTER
XXX
But
the
problem
of
these
two
lives
was
not
solved
by
a
burst
of
feeling
.
Without
that
determining
impulse
of
love
and
pity
in
Catherine
's
heart
the
salvation
of
an
exquisite
bond
might
indeed
have
been
impossible
.
But
in
spite
of
it
the
laws
of
character
had
still
to
work
themselves
inexorably
out
on
either
side
.
The
whole
gist
of
the
matter
for
Elsmere
lay
really
in
this
question
:
Hidden
in
Catherine
's
nature
,
was
there
,
or
was
there
not
,
the
true
stuff
of
fanaticism
?
Madame
Guyon
left
her
infant
children
to
the
mercies
of
chance
,
while
she
followed
the
voice
of
God
to
the
holy
war
with
heresy
.
Under
similar
conditions
Catherine
Elsmere
might
have
planned
the
same
.
Could
she
ever
have
carried
it
out
?
And
yet
the
question
is
still
ill
stated
.
For
the
influences
of
our
modern
time
on
religious
action
are
so
blunting
and
dulling
,
because
in
truth
the
religious
motive
itself
is
being
constantly
modified
,
whether
the
religious
person
knows
it
or
not
.
Is
it
possible
now
for
a
good
woman
with
a
heart
,
in
Catherine
Elsmere
's
position
,
to
maintain
herself
against
love
,
and
all
those
subtle
forces
to
which
such
a
change
as
Elsmere
's
opens
the
house
doors
,
without
either
hardening
,
or
greatly
yielding
?
Let
Catherine
's
further
story
give
some
sort
of
an
answer
.
Poor
soul
!
As
they
sat
together
in
the
study
,
after
he
had
brought
her
home
,
Robert
,
with
averted
eyes
,
went
through
the
plans
he
had
already
thought
into
shape
.
Catherine
listened
,
saying
almost
nothing
.
But
never
,
never
had
she
loved
this
life
of
theirs
so
well
as
now
that
she
was
called
on
,
at
barely
a
week
's
notice
,
to
give
it
up
for
ever
!
For
Robert
's
scheme
,
in
which
her
reason
fully
acquiesced
,
was
to
keep
to
their
plan
of
going
to
Switzerland
,
he
having
first
,
of
course
,
settled
all
things
with
the
bishop
,
and
having
placed
his
living
in
the
hands
of
Mowbray
Elsmere
.
When
they
left
the
rectory
,
in
a
week
or
ten
days
'
time
,
he
proposed
,
in
fact
,
his
voice
almost
inaudible
as
he
did
so
,
that
Catherine
should
leave
it
for
good
.
'
Everybody
had
better
suppose
,
'
he
said
choking
,
'
that
we
are
coming
back
.
Of
course
we
need
say
nothing
.
Armitstead
will
be
here
for
next
week
certainly
.
Then
afterwards
I
can
come
down
and
manage
everything
.
I
shall
get
it
over
in
a
day
if
I
can
,
and
see
nobody
.
I
cannot
say
good-bye
,
nor
can
you
.
'
'
And
next
Sunday
,
Robert
?
'
she
asked
him
,
after
a
pause
.
'
I
shall
write
to
Armitstead
this
afternoon
and
ask
him
,
if
he
possibly
can
,
to
come
to-morrow
afternoon
,
instead
of
Monday
,
and
take
the
service
.
'
Catherine
's
hands
clasped
each
other
still
more
closely
.
So
then
she
had
heard
her
husband
's
voice
for
the
last
time
in
the
public
ministry
of
the
Church
,
in
prayer
,
in
exhortation
,
in
benediction
!
One
of
the
most
sacred
traditions
of
her
life
was
struck
from
her
at
a
blow
.
It
was
long
before
either
of
them
spoke
again
.
Then
she
ventured
another
question
.
'
And
have
you
any
idea
of
what
we
shall
do
next
,
Robert
—
of
—
of
our
future
?
'
'
Shall
we
try
London
for
a
little
?
'
he
answered
in
a
queer
strained
voice
,
leaning
against
the
window
,
and
looking
out
,
that
he
might
not
see
her
.
'
I
should
find
work
among
the
poor
—
so
would
you
—
and
I
could
go
on
with
my
book
.
And
your
mother
and
sister
will
probably
be
there
part
of
the
winter
.
'
She
acquiesced
silently
.
How
mean
and
shrunken
a
future
it
seemed
to
them
both
,
beside
the
wide
and
honourable
range
of
his
clergyman
's
life
as
he
and
she
had
developed
it
.
But
she
did
not
dwell
long
on
that
.
Her
thoughts
were
suddenly
invaded
by
the
memory
of
a
cottage
tragedy
in
which
she
had
recently
taken
a
prominent
part
.
A
girl
,
a
child
of
fifteen
,
from
one
of
the
crowded
Mile
End
hovels
,
had
gone
at
Christmas
to
a
distant
farm
as
servant
,
and
come
back
a
month
ago
,
ruined
,
the
victim
of
an
outrage
over
which
Elsmere
had
ground
his
teeth
in
fierce
and
helpless
anger
.
Catherine
had
found
her
a
shelter
,
and
was
to
see
her
through
her
'
trouble
'
;
the
girl
,
a
frail
half-witted
creature
,
who
could
find
no
words
even
to
bewail
herself
,
clinging
to
her
the
while
with
the
dumbest
,
pitifulest
tenacity
.
How
could
she
leave
that
girl
?
It
was
as
if
all
the
fibres
of
life
were
being
violently
wrenched
from
all
their
natural
connections
.
'
Robert
!
'
she
cried
at
last
with
a
start
.
'
Had
you
forgotten
the
Institute
to-morrow
?
'
'
No
—
no
,
'
he
said
with
the
saddest
smile
.
'
No
,
I
had
not
forgotten
it
.
Do
n't
go
,
Catherine
—
do
n't
go
.
I
must
.
But
why
should
you
go
through
it
?
'
'
But
there
are
all
those
flags
and
wreaths
,
'
she
said
,
getting
up
in
pained
bewilderment
.
'
I
must
go
and
look
after
them
.
'
He
caught
her
in
his
arms
.
'
Oh
,
my
wife
,
my
wife
,
forgive
me
!
'
It
was
a
groan
of
misery
.
She
put
up
her
hands
and
pressed
his
hair
back
from
his
temples
.
'
I
love
you
,
Robert
,
'
she
said
simply
,
her
face
colourless
,
but
perfectly
calm
.
Half
an
hour
later
,
after
he
had
worked
through
some
letters
,
he
went
into
the
workroom
and
found
her
surrounded
with
flags
,
and
a
vast
litter
of
paper
roses
and
evergreens
,
which
she
and
the
new
agent
's
daughters
who
had
come
up
to
help
her
were
putting
together
for
the
decorations
of
the
morrow
.
Mary
was
tottering
from
chair
to
chair
in
high
glee
,
a
big
pink
rose
stuck
in
the
belt
of
her
pinafore
.
His
pale
wife
,
trying
to
smile
and
talk
as
usual
,
her
lap
full
of
evergreens
,
and
her
politeness
exercised
by
the
chatter
of
the
two
Miss
Batesons
,
seemed
to
Robert
one
of
the
most
pitiful
spectacles
he
had
ever
seen
.
He
fled
from
it
out
into
the
village
driven
by
a
restless
longing
for
change
and
movement
.
Here
he
found
a
large
gathering
round
the
new
Institute
.
There
were
carpenters
at
work
on
a
triumphal
arch
in
front
,
and
close
by
,
an
admiring
circle
of
children
and
old
men
,
huddling
in
the
shade
of
a
great
chestnut
.
Elsmere
spent
an
hour
in
the
building
,
helping
and
superintending
,
stabbed
every
now
and
then
by
the
unsuspecting
friendliness
of
those
about
him
,
or
worried
by
their
blunt
comments
on
his
looks
.
He
could
not
bear
more
than
a
glance
into
the
new
rooms
apportioned
to
the
Naturalists
'
Club
.
There
against
the
wall
stood
the
new
glass
cases
he
had
wrung
out
of
the
squire
,
with
various
new
collections
lying
near
,
ready
to
be
arranged
and
unpacked
when
time
allowed
.
The
old
collections
stood
out
bravely
in
the
added
space
and
light
;
the
walls
were
hung
here
and
there
with
a
wonderful
set
of
geographical
pictures
he
had
carried
off
from
a
London
exhibition
,
and
fed
his
boys
on
for
weeks
;
the
floors
were
freshly
matted
;
the
new
pine
fittings
gave
out
their
pleasant
cleanly
scent
;
the
white
paint
of
doors
and
windows
shone
in
the
August
sun
.
The
building
had
been
given
by
the
squire
.
The
fittings
and
furniture
had
been
mainly
of
his
providing
.
What
uses
he
had
planned
for
it
all
!
—
only
to
see
the
fruits
of
two
years
'
effort
out
of
doors
,
and
personal
frugality
at
home
,
handed
over
to
some
possibly
unsympathetic
stranger
.
The
heart
beat
painfully
against
the
iron
bars
of
fate
,
rebelling
against
the
power
of
a
mental
process
so
to
affect
a
man
's
whole
practical
and
social
life
!
He
went
out
at
last
by
the
back
of
the
Institute
,
where
a
little
bit
of
garden
,
spoilt
with
building
materials
,
led
down
to
a
lane
.
At
the
end
of
the
garden
,
beside
the
untidy
gap
in
the
hedge
made
by
the
builders
'
carts
,
he
saw
a
man
standing
,
who
turned
away
down
the
lane
,
however
,
as
soon
as
the
rector
's
figure
emerged
into
view
.
Robert
had
recognised
the
slouching
gait
and
unwieldy
form
of
Henslowe
.
There
were
at
this
moment
all
kinds
of
gruesome
stories
afloat
in
the
village
about
the
ex-agent
.
It
was
said
that
he
was
breaking
up
fast
;
it
was
known
that
he
was
extensively
in
debt
;
and
the
village
shopkeepers
had
already
held
an
agitated
meeting
or
two
,
to
decide
upon
the
best
mode
of
getting
their
money
out
of
him
,
and
upon
a
joint
plan
of
cautious
action
towards
his
custom
in
future
.
The
man
,
indeed
,
was
sinking
deeper
and
deeper
into
a
pit
of
sordid
misery
,
maintaining
all
the
while
a
snarling
exasperating
front
to
the
world
,
which
was
rapidly
converting
the
careless
half-malicious
pity
wherewith
the
village
had
till
now
surveyed
his
fall
into
that
more
active
species
of
baiting
which
the
human
animal
is
never
very
loth
to
try
upon
the
limping
specimens
of
his
race
.
Henslowe
stopped
and
turned
as
he
heard
the
steps
behind
him
.
Six
months
'
self-murdering
had
left
ghastly
traces
.
He
was
many
degrees
nearer
the
brute
than
he
had
been
even
when
Robert
made
his
ineffectual
visit
.
But
at
this
actual
moment
Robert
's
practised
eye
—
for
every
English
parish
clergyman
becomes
dismally
expert
in
the
pathology
of
drunkenness
—
saw
that
there
was
no
fight
in
him
.
He
was
in
one
of
the
drunkard
's
periods
of
collapse
—
shivering
,
flabby
,
starting
at
every
sound
,
a
misery
to
himself
and
a
spectacle
to
others
.
'
Mr
.
Henslowe
!
'
cried
Robert
,
still
pursuing
him
,
'
may
I
speak
to
you
a
moment
?
'
The
ex-agent
turned
,
his
prominent
bloodshot
eyes
glowering
at
the
speaker
.
But
he
had
to
catch
at
his
stick
for
support
,
or
at
the
nervous
shock
of
Robert
's
summons
his
legs
would
have
given
way
under
him
.
Robert
came
up
with
him
and
stood
a
second
,
fronting
the
evil
silence
of
the
other
,
his
boyish
face
deeply
flushed
.
Perhaps
the
grotesqueness
of
that
former
scene
was
in
his
mind
.
Moreover
,
the
vestry
meetings
had
furnished
Henslowe
with
periodical
opportunities
for
venting
his
gall
on
the
rector
,
and
they
had
never
been
neglected
.
But
he
plunged
on
boldly
.
'
I
am
going
away
next
week
,
Mr.
Henslowe
;
I
shall
be
away
some
considerable
time
.
Before
I
go
I
should
like
to
ask
you
whether
you
do
not
think
the
feud
between
us
had
better
cease
.
Why
will
you
persist
in
making
an
enemy
of
me
?
If
I
did
you
an
injury
it
was
neither
wittingly
nor
willingly
.
I
know
you
have
been
ill
and
I
gather
that
—
that
—
you
are
in
trouble
.
If
I
could
stand
between
you
and
further
mischief
I
would
—
most
gladly
.
If
help
—
or
—
or
money
—
—
'
He
paused
.
He
shrewdly
suspected
,
indeed
,
from
the
reports
that
reached
him
,
that
Henslowe
was
on
the
brink
of
bankruptcy
.
The
rector
had
spoken
with
the
utmost
diffidence
and
delicacy
,
but
Henslowe
found
energy
in
return
for
an
outburst
of
quavering
animosity
,
from
which
,
however
,
physical
weakness
had
extracted
all
its
sting
.
'
I
'll
thank
you
to
make
your
canting
offers
to
some
one
else
,
Mr.
Elsmere
.
When
I
want
your
advice
I
'll
ask
it
.
Good
day
to
you
.
'
And
he
turned
away
with
as
much
of
an
attempt
at
dignity
as
his
shaking
limbs
would
allow
of
.
'
Listen
,
Mr.
Henslowe
,
'
said
Robert
firmly
,
walking
beside
him
;
'
you
know
—
I
know
—
that
if
this
goes
on
,
in
a
year
's
time
you
will
be
in
your
grave
,
and
your
poor
wife
and
children
struggling
to
keep
themselves
from
the
workhouse
.
You
may
think
that
I
have
no
right
to
preach
to
you
—
that
you
are
the
older
man
—
that
it
is
an
intrusion
.
But
what
is
the
good
of
blinking
facts
that
you
must
know
all
the
world
knows
?
Come
,
now
,
Mr.
Henslowe
,
let
us
behave
for
a
moment
as
though
this
were
our
last
meeting
.
Who
knows
?
the
chances
of
life
are
many
.
Lay
down
your
grudge
against
me
,
and
let
me
speak
to
you
as
one
struggling
human
being
to
another
.
The
fact
that
you
have
,
as
you
say
,
become
less
prosperous
,
in
some
sort
through
me
,
seems
to
give
me
a
right
—
to
make
it
a
duty
for
me
,
if
you
will
—
to
help
you
if
I
can
.
Let
me
send
a
good
doctor
to
see
you
.
Let
me
implore
you
as
a
last
chance
to
put
yourself
into
his
hands
,
and
to
obey
him
,
and
your
wife
;
and
let
me
,
'
—
the
rector
hesitated
,
—
'
let
me
make
things
pecuniarily
easier
for
Mrs.
Henslowe
till
you
have
pulled
yourself
out
of
the
hole
in
which
,
by
common
report
at
least
,
you
are
now
.
'
Henslowe
stared
at
him
,
divided
between
anger
caused
by
the
sore
stirring
of
his
old
self-importance
,
and
a
tumultuous
flood
of
self-pity
,
roused
irresistibly
in
him
by
Robert
's
piercing
frankness
,
and
aided
by
his
own
more
or
less
maudlin
condition
.
The
latter
sensation
quickly
undermined
the
former
;
he
turned
his
back
on
the
rector
and
leant
over
the
railings
of
the
lane
,
shaken
by
something
it
is
hardly
worth
while
to
dignify
by
the
name
of
emotion
.
Robert
stood
by
,
a
pale
embodiment
of
mingled
judgment
and
compassion
.
He
gave
the
man
a
few
moments
to
recover
himself
,
and
then
,
as
Henslowe
turned
round
again
,
he
silently
and
appealingly
held
out
his
hand
—
the
hand
of
the
good
man
,
which
it
was
an
honour
for
such
as
Henslowe
to
touch
.
Constrained
by
the
moral
force
radiating
from
his
look
,
the
other
took
it
with
a
kind
of
helpless
sullenness
.
Then
,
seizing
at
once
on
the
slight
concession
,
with
that
complete
lack
of
inconvenient
self-consciousness
,
or
hindering
indecision
,
which
was
one
of
the
chief
causes
of
his
effect
on
men
and
women
,
Robert
began
to
sound
the
broken
repulsive
creature
as
to
his
affairs
.
Bit
by
bit
,
compelled
by
a
will
and
nervous
strength
far
superior
to
his
own
,
Henslowe
was
led
into
abrupt
and
blurted
confidences
which
surprised
no
one
so
much
as
himself
.
Robert
's
quick
sense
possessed
itself
of
point
after
point
,
seeing
presently
ways
of
escape
and
relief
which
the
besotted
brain
beside
him
had
been
quite
incapable
of
devising
for
itself
.
They
walked
on
into
the
open
country
,
and
what
with
the
discipline
of
the
rector
's
presence
,
the
sobering
effect
wrought
by
the
shock
to
pride
and
habit
,
and
the
unwonted
brain
exercise
of
the
conversation
,
the
demon
in
Henslowe
had
been
for
the
moment
most
strangely
tamed
after
half
an
hour
's
talk
.
Actually
some
reminiscences
of
his
old
ways
of
speech
and
thought
,
the
ways
of
the
once
prosperous
and
self-reliant
man
of
business
,
had
reappeared
in
him
before
the
end
of
it
,
called
out
by
the
subtle
influence
of
a
manner
which
always
attracted
to
the
surface
whatever
decent
element
there
might
be
left
in
a
man
,
and
then
instantly
gave
it
a
recognition
which
was
more
redeeming
than
either
counsel
or
denunciation
.
By
the
time
they
parted
Robert
had
arranged
with
his
old
enemy
that
he
should
become
his
surety
with
a
rich
cousin
in
Churton
,
who
,
always
supposing
there
were
no
risk
in
the
matter
,
and
that
benevolence
ran
on
all-fours
with
security
of
investment
,
was
prepared
to
shield
the
credit
of
the
family
by
the
advance
of
a
sufficient
sum
of
money
to
rescue
the
ex-agent
from
his
most
pressing
difficulties
.
He
had
also
wrung
from
him
the
promise
to
see
a
specialist
in
London
—
Robert
writing
that
evening
to
make
the
appointment
.
How
had
it
been
done
?
Neither
Robert
nor
Henslowe
ever
quite
knew
.
Henslowe
walked
home
in
a
bewilderment
which
for
once
had
nothing
to
do
with
brandy
,
but
was
simply
the
result
of
a
moral
shock
acting
on
what
was
still
human
in
the
man
's
debased
consciousness
,
just
as
electricity
acts
on
the
bodily
frame
.
Robert
,
on
the
other
hand
,
saw
him
depart
with
a
singular
lightening
of
mood
.
What
he
seemed
to
have
achieved
might
turn
out
to
be
the
merest
moonshine
.
At
any
rate
,
the
incident
had
appeased
in
him
a
kind
of
spiritual
hunger
—
the
hunger
to
escape
a
while
from
that
incessant
process
of
destructive
analysis
with
which
the
mind
was
still
beset
,
into
some
use
of
energy
,
more
positive
,
human
,
and
beneficent
.
The
following
day
was
one
long
trial
of
endurance
for
Elsmere
and
for
Catherine
.
She
pleaded
to
go
,
promising
quietly
to
keep
out
of
his
sight
,
and
they
started
together
—
a
miserable
pair
.
Crowds
,
heat
,
decorations
,
the
grandees
on
the
platform
,
and
conspicuous
among
them
the
squire
's
slouching
frame
and
striking
head
,
side
by
side
with
a
white
and
radiant
Lady
Helen
—
the
outer
success
,
the
inner
revolt
and
pain
—
and
the
constant
seeking
of
his
truant
eyes
for
a
face
that
hid
itself
as
much
as
possible
in
dark
corners
,
but
was
in
truth
the
one
thing
sharply
present
to
him
—
these
were
the
sort
of
impressions
that
remained
with
Elsmere
afterwards
of
this
last
meeting
with
his
people
.
He
had
made
a
speech
,
of
which
he
never
could
remember
a
word
.
As
he
sat
down
,
there
had
been
a
slight
flutter
of
surprise
in
the
sympathetic
looks
of
those
about
him
,
as
though
the
tone
of
it
had
been
somewhat
unexpected
and
disproportionate
to
the
occasion
.
Had
he
betrayed
himself
in
any
way
?
He
looked
for
Catherine
,
but
she
was
nowhere
to
be
seen
.
Only
in
his
search
he
caught
the
squire
's
ironical
glance
,
and
wondered
with
quick
shame
what
sort
of
nonsense
he
had
been
talking
.
Then
a
neighbouring
clergyman
,
who
had
been
his
warm
supporter
and
admirer
from
the
beginning
,
sprang
up
and
made
a
rambling
panegyric
on
him
and
on
his
work
,
which
Elsmere
writhed
under
.
His
work
!
absurdity
!
What
could
be
done
in
two
years
?
He
saw
it
all
as
the
merest
nothing
,
a
ragged
beginning
which
might
do
more
harm
than
good
.
But
the
cheering
was
incessant
,
the
popular
feeling
intense
.
There
was
old
Milsom
waving
a
feeble
arm
:
John
Allwood
gaunt
,
but
radiant
;
Mary
Sharland
,
white
still
as
the
ribbons
on
her
bonnet
,
egging
on
her
flushed
and
cheering
husband
;
and
the
club
boys
grinning
and
shouting
,
partly
for
love
of
Elsmere
,
mostly
because
to
the
young
human
animal
mere
noise
is
heaven
.
In
front
was
an
old
hedger
and
ditcher
,
who
came
round
the
parish
periodically
,
and
never
failed
to
take
Elsmere
's
opinion
as
to
'
a
bit
of
prapperty
'
he
and
two
other
brothers
as
ancient
as
himself
had
been
quarrelling
over
for
twenty
years
,
and
were
likely
to
go
on
quarrelling
over
,
till
all
three
litigants
had
closed
their
eyes
on
a
mortal
scene
which
had
afforded
them
on
the
whole
vast
entertainment
,
though
little
pelf
.
Next
him
was
a
bowed
and
twisted
old
tramp
who
had
been
shepherd
in
the
district
in
his
youth
,
had
then
gone
through
the
Crimea
and
the
Mutiny
,
and
was
now
living
about
the
commons
,
welcome
to
feed
here
and
sleep
there
for
the
sake
of
his
stories
and
his
queer
innocuous
wit
.
Robert
had
had
many
a
gay
argumentative
walk
with
him
,
and
he
and
his
companion
had
tramped
miles
to
see
the
function
,
to
rattle
their
sticks
on
the
floor
in
Elsmere
's
honour
,
and
satiate
their
curious
gaze
on
the
squire
.
When
all
was
over
,
Elsmere
,
with
his
wife
on
his
arm
,
mounted
the
hill
to
the
rectory
,
leaving
the
green
behind
them
still
crowded
with
folk
.
Once
inside
the
shelter
of
their
own
trees
,
husband
and
wife
turned
instinctively
and
caught
each
other
's
hands
.
A
low
groan
broke
from
Elsmere
's
lips
;
Catherine
looked
at
him
one
moment
,
then
fell
weeping
on
his
breast
.
The
first
chapter
of
their
common
life
was
closed
.
One
thing
more
,
however
,
of
a
private
nature
,
remained
for
Elsmere
to
do
.
Late
in
the
afternoon
he
walked
over
to
the
Hall
.
He
found
the
squire
in
the
inner
library
,
among
his
German
books
,
his
pipe
in
his
mouth
,
his
old
smoking
coat
and
slippers
bearing
witness
to
the
rapidity
and
joy
with
which
he
had
shut
the
world
out
again
after
the
futilities
of
the
morning
.
His
mood
was
more
accessible
than
Elsmere
had
yet
found
it
since
his
return
.
'
Well
,
have
you
done
with
all
those
tomfooleries
,
Elsmere
?
Precious
eloquent
speech
you
made
!
When
I
see
you
and
people
like
you
throwing
yourselves
at
the
heads
of
the
people
,
I
always
think
of
Scaliger
's
remark
about
the
Basques
:
"
They
say
they
understand
one
another
—
I
do
n't
believe
a
word
of
it
!
"
All
that
the
lower
class
wants
to
understand
,
at
any
rate
,
is
the
shortest
way
to
the
pockets
of
you
and
me
;
all
that
you
and
I
need
understand
,
according
to
me
,
is
how
to
keep
'
em
off
!
There
you
have
the
sum
and
substance
of
my
political
philosophy
.
'
'
You
remind
me
,
'
said
Robert
drily
,
sitting
down
on
one
of
the
library
stools
,
'
of
some
of
those
sentiments
you
expressed
so
forcibly
on
the
first
evening
of
our
acquaintance
.
'
The
squire
received
the
shaft
with
equanimity
.
'
I
was
not
amiable
,
I
remember
,
on
that
occasion
,
'
he
said
coolly
,
his
thin
,
old
man
's
fingers
moving
the
while
among
the
shelves
of
books
,
'
nor
on
several
subsequent
ones
.
I
had
been
made
a
fool
of
,
and
you
were
not
particularly
adroit
.
But
of
course
you
wo
n't
acknowledge
it
.
Who
ever
yet
got
a
parson
to
confess
himself
!
'
'
Strangely
enough
,
Mr.
Wendover
,
'
said
Robert
,
fixing
him
with
a
pair
of
deliberate
feverish
eyes
,
'
I
am
here
at
this
moment
for
that
very
purpose
.
'
'
Go
on
,
'
said
the
squire
,
turning
,
however
,
to
meet
the
rector
's
look
,
his
gold
spectacles
falling
forward
over
his
long
hooked
nose
,
his
attitude
one
of
sudden
attention
.
'
Go
on
.
'
All
his
grievances
against
Elsmere
returned
to
him
.
He
stood
aggressively
waiting
.
Robert
paused
a
moment
,
and
then
said
abruptly
—
'
Perhaps
even
you
will
agree
,
Mr.
Wendover
,
that
I
had
some
reason
for
sentiment
this
morning
.
Unless
I
read
the
lessons
to-morrow
,
which
is
possible
,
to-day
has
been
my
last
public
appearance
as
rector
of
this
parish
!
'
The
squire
looked
at
him
dumfoundered
.
'
And
your
reasons
?
'
he
said
,
with
quick
imperativeness
.
Robert
gave
them
.
He
admitted
,
as
plainly
and
bluntly
as
he
had
done
to
Grey
,
the
squire
's
own
part
in
the
matter
;
but
here
a
note
of
antagonism
,
almost
of
defiance
,
crept
even
into
his
confession
of
wide
and
illimitable
defeat
.
He
was
there
,
so
to
speak
,
to
hand
over
his
sword
.
But
to
the
squire
,
his
surrender
had
all
the
pride
of
victory
.
'
Why
should
you
give
up
your
living
?
'
asked
the
squire
after
several
minutes
'
complete
silence
.
He
too
had
sat
down
,
and
was
now
bending
forward
,
his
sharp
small
eyes
peering
at
his
companion
.
'
Simply
because
I
prefer
to
feel
myself
an
honest
man
.
However
,
I
have
not
acted
without
advice
.
Grey
of
St.
Anselm
's
—
you
know
him
of
course
—
was
a
very
close
personal
friend
of
mine
at
Oxford
.
I
have
been
to
see
him
,
and
we
agreed
it
was
the
only
thing
to
do
.
'
'
Oh
,
Grey
,
'
exclaimed
the
squire
,
with
a
movement
of
impatience
.
'
Grey
of
course
wanted
you
to
set
up
a
church
of
your
own
,
or
to
join
his
!
He
is
like
all
idealists
,
he
has
the
usual
foolish
contempt
for
the
compromise
of
institutions
.
'
'
Not
at
all
,
'
said
Robert
calmly
,
'
you
are
mistaken
;
he
has
the
most
sacred
respect
for
institutions
.
He
only
thinks
it
well
,
and
I
agree
with
him
,
that
with
regard
to
a
man
's
public
profession
and
practice
he
should
recognise
that
two
and
two
make
four
.
'
It
was
clear
to
him
from
the
squire
's
tone
and
manner
that
Mr.
Wendover
's
instincts
on
the
point
were
very
much
what
he
had
expected
,
the
instincts
of
the
philosophical
man
of
the
world
,
who
scorns
the
notion
of
taking
popular
beliefs
seriously
,
whether
for
protest
or
for
sympathy
.
But
he
was
too
weary
to
argue
.
The
squire
,
however
,
rose
hastily
and
began
to
walk
up
and
down
in
a
gathering
storm
of
irritation
.
The
triumph
gained
for
his
own
side
,
the
tribute
to
his
life
's
work
,
were
at
the
moment
absolutely
indifferent
to
him
.
They
were
effaced
by
something
else
much
harder
to
analyse
.
Whatever
it
was
,
it
drove
him
to
throw
himself
upon
Robert
's
position
with
a
perverse
bewildering
bitterness
.
'
Why
should
you
break
up
your
life
in
this
wanton
way
?
Who
,
in
God
's
name
,
is
injured
if
you
keep
your
living
?
It
is
the
business
of
the
thinker
and
the
scholar
to
clear
his
mind
of
cobwebs
.
Granted
.
You
have
done
it
.
But
it
is
also
the
business
of
the
practical
man
to
live
!
If
I
had
your
altruist
emotional
temperament
,
I
should
not
hesitate
for
a
moment
.
I
should
regard
the
historical
expressions
of
an
eternal
tendency
in
men
as
wholly
indifferent
to
me
.
If
I
understand
you
aright
,
you
have
flung
away
the
sanctions
of
orthodoxy
.
There
is
no
other
in
the
way
.
Treat
words
as
they
deserve
.
You
'
—
and
the
speaker
laid
an
emphasis
on
the
pronoun
which
for
the
life
of
him
he
could
not
help
making
sarcastic
—
'
you
will
always
have
Gospel
enough
to
preach
.
'
'
I
cannot
,
'
Robert
repeated
quietly
,
unmoved
by
the
taunt
,
if
it
was
one
.
'
I
am
in
a
different
stage
,
I
imagine
,
from
you
.
Words
—
that
is
to
say
,
the
specific
Christian
formulæ
—
may
be
indifferent
to
you
,
though
a
month
or
two
ago
I
should
hardly
have
guessed
it
;
they
are
just
now
anything
but
indifferent
to
me
.
'
The
squire
's
brow
grew
darker
.
He
took
up
the
argument
again
,
more
pugnaciously
than
ever
.
It
was
the
strangest
attempt
ever
made
to
gibe
and
flout
a
wandering
sheep
back
into
the
fold
.
Robert
's
resentment
was
roused
at
last
.
The
squire
's
temper
seemed
to
him
totally
inexplicable
,
his
arguments
contradictory
,
the
conversation
useless
and
irritating
.
He
got
up
to
take
his
leave
.
'
What
you
are
about
to
do
,
Elsmere
,
'
the
squire
wound
up
with
saturnine
emphasis
,
'
is
a
piece
of
cowardice
!
You
will
live
bitterly
to
regret
the
haste
and
the
unreason
of
it
.
'
'
There
has
been
no
haste
,
'
exclaimed
Robert
in
the
low
tone
of
passionate
emotion
;
'
I
have
not
rooted
up
the
most
sacred
growths
of
life
as
a
careless
child
devastates
its
garden
.
There
are
some
things
which
a
man
only
does
because
he
must
.
'
There
was
a
pause
.
Robert
held
out
his
hand
.
The
squire
would
hardly
touch
it
.
Outwardly
his
mood
was
one
of
the
strangest
eccentricity
and
anger
;
and
as
to
what
was
beneath
it
,
Elsmere
's
quick
divination
was
dulled
by
worry
and
fatigue
.
It
only
served
him
so
far
that
at
the
door
he
turned
back
,
hat
in
hand
,
and
said
,
looking
lingeringly
the
while
at
the
solitary
sombre
figure
,
at
the
great
library
,
with
all
its
suggestive
and
exquisite
detail
:
'
If
Monday
is
fine
,
Squire
,
will
you
walk
?
'
The
squire
made
no
reply
except
by
another
question
.
'
Do
you
still
keep
to
your
Swiss
plans
for
next
week
?
'
he
asked
sharply
.
'
Certainly
.
The
plan
,
as
it
happens
,
is
a
Godsend
.
But
there
,
'
said
Robert
,
with
a
sigh
,
'
let
me
explain
the
details
of
this
dismal
business
to
you
on
Monday
.
I
have
hardly
the
courage
for
it
now
.
'
The
curtain
dropped
behind
him
.
Mr.
Wendover
stood
a
minute
looking
after
him
;
then
,
with
some
vehement
expletive
or
other
,
walked
up
to
his
writing-table
,
drew
some
folios
that
were
lying
on
it
towards
him
,
with
hasty
maladroit
movements
which
sent
his
papers
flying
over
the
floor
,
and
plunged
doggedly
into
work
.
He
and
Mrs.
Darcy
dined
alone
.
After
dinner
the
squire
leant
against
the
mantelpiece
sipping
his
coffee
,
more
gloomily
silent
than
even
his
sister
had
seen
him
for
weeks
.
And
,
as
always
happened
when
he
became
more
difficult
and
morose
,
she
became
more
childish
.
She
was
now
wholly
absorbed
with
a
little
electric
toy
she
had
just
bought
for
Mary
Elsmere
,
a
number
of
infinitesimal
little
figures
dancing
fantastically
under
the
stimulus
of
an
electric
current
,
generated
by
the
simplest
means
.
She
hung
over
it
absorbed
,
calling
to
her
brother
every
now
and
then
,
as
though
by
sheer
perversity
,
to
come
and
look
whenever
the
pink
or
the
blue
danseuse
executed
a
more
surprising
somersault
than
usual
.
He
took
not
the
smallest
spoken
notice
of
her
,
though
his
eyes
followed
her
contemptuously
as
she
moved
from
window
to
window
with
her
toy
in
pursuit
of
the
fading
light
.
'
Oh
,
Roger
,
'
she
called
presently
,
still
throwing
herself
to
this
side
and
that
,
to
catch
new
views
of
her
pith
puppets
,
'
I
have
got
something
to
show
you
.
You
must
admire
them
—
you
shall
!
I
have
been
drawing
them
all
day
,
and
they
are
nearly
done
.
You
remember
what
I
told
you
once
about
my
"
imps
"
?
I
have
seen
them
all
my
life
,
since
I
was
a
child
in
France
with
papa
,
and
I
have
never
been
able
to
draw
them
till
the
last
few
weeks
.
They
are
such
dears
—
such
darlings
;
every
one
will
know
them
when
he
sees
them
!
There
is
the
Chinese
imp
,
the
low
smirking
creature
,
you
know
,
that
sits
on
the
edge
of
your
cup
of
tea
;
there
is
the
flipperty-flopperty
creature
that
flies
out
at
you
when
you
open
a
drawer
;
there
is
the
twisty-twirly
person
that
sits
jeering
on
the
edge
of
your
hat
when
it
blows
away
from
you
;
and
'
—
her
voice
dropped
—
'
that
ugly
,
ugly
thing
I
always
see
waiting
for
me
on
the
top
of
a
gate
.
They
have
teased
me
all
my
life
,
and
now
at
last
I
have
drawn
them
.
If
they
were
to
take
offence
to-morrow
I
should
have
them
—
the
beauties
—
all
safe
.
'
She
came
towards
him
,
her
bizarre
little
figure
swaying
from
side
to
side
,
her
eyes
glittering
,
her
restless
hands
pulling
at
the
lace
round
her
blanched
head
and
face
.
The
squire
,
his
hands
behind
him
,
looked
at
her
frowning
,
an
involuntary
horror
dawning
on
his
dark
countenance
,
turned
abruptly
,
and
left
the
room
.
Mr.
Wendover
worked
till
midnight
;
then
,
tired
out
,
he
turned
to
the
bit
of
fire
to
which
,
in
spite
of
the
oppressiveness
of
the
weather
,
the
chilliness
of
age
and
nervous
strain
had
led
him
to
set
a
light
.
He
sat
there
for
long
,
sunk
in
the
blackest
reverie
.
He
was
the
only
living
creature
in
the
great
library
wing
which
spread
around
and
above
him
—
the
only
waking
creature
in
the
whole
vast
pile
of
Murewell
.
The
silver
lamps
shone
with
a
steady
melancholy
light
on
the
chequered
walls
of
books
.
The
silence
was
a
silence
that
could
be
felt
;
and
the
gleaming
Artemis
,
the
tortured
frowning
Medusa
,
were
hardly
stiller
in
their
frozen
calm
than
the
crouching
figure
of
the
squire
.
So
Elsmere
was
going
!
In
a
few
weeks
the
rectory
would
be
once
more
tenanted
by
one
of
those
nonentities
the
squire
had
either
patronised
or
scorned
all
his
life
.
The
park
,
the
lanes
,
the
room
in
which
he
sits
,
will
know
that
spare
young
figure
,
that
animated
voice
,
no
more
.
The
outlet
which
had
brought
so
much
relief
and
stimulus
to
his
own
mental
powers
is
closed
;
the
friendship
on
which
he
had
unconsciously
come
to
depend
so
much
is
broken
before
it
had
well
begun
.
All
sorts
of
strange
thwarted
instincts
make
themselves
felt
in
the
squire
.
The
wife
he
had
once
thought
to
marry
,
the
children
he
might
have
had
,
come
to
sit
like
ghosts
with
him
beside
the
fire
.
He
had
never
,
like
Augustine
,
'
loved
to
love
'
;
he
had
only
loved
to
know
.
But
none
of
us
escapes
to
the
last
the
yearnings
which
make
us
men
.
The
squire
becomes
conscious
that
certain
fibres
he
had
thought
long
since
dead
in
him
had
been
all
the
while
twining
themselves
silently
round
the
disciple
who
had
shown
him
in
many
respects
such
a
filial
consideration
and
confidence
.
That
young
man
might
have
become
to
him
the
son
of
his
old
age
,
the
one
human
being
from
whom
,
as
weakness
of
mind
and
body
break
him
down
,
even
his
indomitable
spirit
might
have
accepted
the
sweetness
of
human
pity
,
the
comfort
of
human
help
.
And
it
is
his
own
hand
which
has
done
most
to
break
the
nascent
slowly-forming
tie
.
He
has
bereft
himself
.
With
what
incredible
recklessness
had
he
been
acting
all
these
months
!
It
was
the
levity
of
his
own
proceeding
which
stared
him
in
the
face
.
His
rough
hand
had
closed
on
the
delicate
wings
of
a
soul
as
a
boy
crushes
the
butterfly
he
pursues
.
As
Elsmere
had
stood
looking
back
at
him
from
the
library
door
,
the
suffering
which
spoke
in
every
line
of
that
changed
face
had
stirred
a
sudden
troubled
remorse
in
Roger
Wendover
.
It
was
mere
justice
that
one
result
of
that
suffering
should
be
to
leave
himself
forlorn
.
He
had
been
thinking
and
writing
of
religion
,
of
the
history
of
ideas
,
all
his
life
.
Had
he
ever
yet
grasped
the
meaning
of
religion
to
the
religious
man
?
God
and
faith
—
what
have
these
venerable
ideas
ever
mattered
to
him
personally
,
except
as
the
subjects
of
the
most
ingenious
analysis
,
the
most
delicate
historical
inductions
?
Not
only
sceptical
to
the
core
,
but
constitutionally
indifferent
,
the
squire
had
always
found
enough
to
make
life
amply
worth
living
in
the
mere
dissection
of
other
men
's
beliefs
.
But
to-night
!
The
unexpected
shock
of
feeling
,
mingled
with
the
terrible
sense
,
periodically
alive
in
him
,
of
physical
doom
,
seems
to
have
stripped
from
the
thorny
soul
its
outer
defences
of
mental
habit
.
He
sees
once
more
the
hideous
spectacle
of
his
father
's
death
,
his
own
black
half-remembered
moments
of
warning
,
the
teasing
horror
of
his
sister
's
increasing
weakness
of
brain
.
Life
has
been
on
the
whole
a
burden
,
though
there
has
been
a
certain
joy
no
doubt
in
the
fierce
intellectual
struggle
of
it
.
And
to-night
it
seems
so
nearly
over
!
A
cold
prescience
of
death
creeps
over
the
squire
as
he
sits
in
the
lamplit
silence
.
His
eye
seems
to
be
actually
penetrating
the
eternal
vastness
which
lies
about
our
life
.
He
feels
himself
old
,
feeble
,
alone
.
The
awe
,
the
terror
which
are
at
the
root
of
all
religions
have
fallen
even
upon
him
at
last
.
The
fire
burns
lower
,
the
night
wears
on
;
outside
,
an
airless
,
misty
moonlight
lies
over
park
and
field
.
Hark
!
was
that
a
sound
upstairs
,
in
one
of
those
silent
empty
rooms
?
The
squire
half
rises
,
one
hand
on
his
chair
,
his
blanched
face
strained
,
listening
.
Again
!
Is
it
a
footstep
or
simply
a
delusion
of
the
ear
?
He
rises
,
pushes
aside
the
curtains
into
the
inner
library
,
where
the
lamps
have
almost
burnt
away
,
creeps
up
the
wooden
stair
,
and
into
the
deserted
upper
story
.
Why
was
that
door
into
the
end
room
—
his
father
's
room
—
open
?
He
had
seen
it
closed
that
afternoon
.
No
one
had
been
there
since
.
He
stepped
nearer
.
Was
that
simply
a
gleam
of
moonlight
on
the
polished
floor
—
confused
lines
of
shadow
thrown
by
the
vine
outside
?
And
was
that
sound
nothing
but
the
stirring
of
the
rising
wind
of
dawn
against
the
open
casement
window
?
Or
—
—
'
My
God
!
'
The
squire
fled
downstairs
.
He
gained
his
chair
again
.
He
sat
upright
an
instant
,
impressing
on
himself
,
with
sardonic
vindictive
force
,
some
of
those
truisms
as
to
the
action
of
mind
on
body
,
of
brain-process
on
sensation
,
which
it
had
been
part
of
his
life
's
work
to
illustrate
.
The
philosopher
had
time
to
realise
a
shuddering
fellowship
of
weakness
with
his
kind
,
to
see
himself
as
a
helpless
instance
of
an
inexorable
law
,
before
he
fell
back
in
his
chair
;
a
swoon
,
born
of
pitiful
human
terror
—
terror
of
things
unseen
—
creeping
over
heart
and
brain
.
BOOK
V
ROSE
CHAPTER
XXXI
It
was
a
November
afternoon
.
London
lay
wrapped
in
rainy
fog
.
The
atmosphere
was
such
as
only
a
Londoner
can
breathe
with
equanimity
,
and
the
gloom
was
indescribable
.
Meanwhile
,
in
defiance
of
the
Inferno
outside
,
festal
preparations
were
being
made
in
a
little
house
on
Campden
Hill
.
Lamps
were
lit
;
in
the
drawing-room
chairs
were
pushed
back
;
the
piano
was
open
,
and
a
violin
stand
towered
beside
it
;
chrysanthemums
were
everywhere
;
an
invalid
lady
in
a
'
best
cap
'
occupied
the
sofa
;
and
two
girls
were
flitting
about
,
clearly
making
the
last
arrangements
necessary
for
a
'
musical
afternoon
.
'
The
invalid
was
Mrs.
Leyburn
,
the
girls
,
of
course
,
Rose
and
Agnes
.
Rose
at
last
was
safely
settled
in
her
longed-for
London
,
and
an
artistic
company
,
of
the
sort
her
soul
loved
,
was
coming
to
tea
with
her
.
Of
Rose
's
summer
at
Burwood
very
little
need
be
said
.
She
was
conscious
that
she
had
not
borne
it
very
well
.
She
had
been
off-hand
with
Mrs.
Thornburgh
,
and
had
enjoyed
one
or
two
open
skirmishes
with
Mrs.
Seaton
.
Her
whole
temper
had
been
irritating
and
irritable
—
she
was
perfectly
aware
of
it
.
Towards
her
sick
mother
,
indeed
,
she
had
controlled
herself
;
nor
,
for
such
a
restless
creature
,
had
she
made
a
bad
nurse
.
But
Agnes
had
endured
much
,
and
found
it
all
the
harder
because
she
was
so
totally
in
the
dark
as
to
the
whys
and
wherefores
of
her
sister
's
moods
.
Rose
herself
would
have
scornfully
denied
that
any
whys
and
wherefores
—
beyond
her
rooted
dislike
of
Whindale
—
existed
.
Since
her
return
from
Berlin
,
and
especially
since
that
moment
when
,
as
she
was
certain
,
Mr.
Langham
had
avoided
her
and
Catherine
at
the
National
Gallery
,
she
had
been
calmly
certain
of
her
own
heart-wholeness
.
Berlin
had
developed
her
precisely
as
she
had
desired
that
it
might
.
The
necessities
of
the
Bohemian
student
's
life
had
trained
her
to
a
new
independence
and
shrewdness
,
and
in
her
own
opinion
she
was
now
a
woman
of
the
world
judging
all
things
by
pure
reasons
.
Oh
,
of
course
,
she
understood
him
perfectly
.
In
the
first
place
,
at
the
time
of
their
first
meeting
she
had
been
a
mere
bread-and-butter
miss
,
the
easiest
of
preys
for
any
one
who
might
wish
to
get
a
few
hours
'
amusement
and
distraction
out
of
her
temper
and
caprices
.
In
the
next
place
,
even
supposing
he
had
been
ever
inclined
to
fall
in
love
with
her
,
which
her
new
sardonic
fairness
of
mind
obliged
her
to
regard
as
entirely
doubtful
,
he
was
a
man
to
whom
marriage
was
impossible
.
How
could
any
one
expect
such
a
superfine
dreamer
to
turn
bread-winner
for
a
wife
and
household
?
Imagine
Mr.
Langham
interviewed
by
a
rate-collector
or
troubled
about
coals
!
As
to
her
—
simply
—
she
had
misunderstood
the
laws
of
the
game
.
It
was
a
little
bitter
to
have
to
confess
it
;
a
little
bitter
that
he
should
have
seen
it
,
and
have
felt
reluctantly
compelled
to
recall
the
facts
to
her
.
But
,
after
all
,
most
girls
have
some
young
follies
to
blush
over
.
So
far
the
little
cynic
would
get
,
becoming
rather
more
scarlet
,
however
,
over
the
process
of
reflection
than
was
quite
compatible
with
the
ostentatious
worldly
wisdom
of
it
.
Then
a
sudden
inward
restlessness
would
break
through
,
and
she
would
spend
a
passionate
hour
pacing
up
and
down
,
and
hungering
for
the
moment
when
she
might
avenge
upon
herself
and
him
the
week
of
silly
friendship
he
had
found
it
necessary
as
her
elder
and
monitor
to
cut
short
!
In
September
came
the
news
of
Robert
's
resignation
of
his
living
.
Mother
and
daughters
sat
looking
at
each
other
over
the
letter
,
stupefied
.
That
this
calamity
,
of
all
others
,
should
have
fallen
on
Catherine
,
of
all
women
!
Rose
said
very
little
,
and
presently
jumped
up
with
shining
excited
eyes
,
and
ran
out
for
a
walk
with
Bob
,
leaving
Agnes
to
console
their
tearful
and
agitated
mother
.
When
she
came
in
she
went
singing
about
the
house
as
usual
.
Agnes
,
who
was
moved
by
the
news
out
of
all
her
ordinary
sangfroid
,
was
outraged
by
what
seemed
to
her
Rose
's
callousness
.
She
wrote
a
letter
to
Catherine
,
which
Catherine
put
among
her
treasures
,
so
strangely
unlike
it
was
to
the
quiet
indifferent
Agnes
of
every
day
.
Rose
spent
a
morning
over
an
attempt
at
a
letter
,
which
when
it
reached
its
destination
only
wounded
Catherine
by
its
constraint
and
convention
.
And
yet
that
same
night
when
the
child
was
alone
,
suddenly
some
phrase
of
Catherine
's
letter
recurred
to
her
.
She
saw
,
as
only
imaginative
people
see
,
with
every
detail
visualised
,
her
sister
's
suffering
,
her
sister
's
struggle
that
was
to
be
.
She
jumped
into
bed
,
and
,
stifling
all
sounds
under
the
clothes
,
cried
herself
to
sleep
,
which
did
not
prevent
her
next
morning
from
harbouring
somewhere
at
the
bottom
of
her
,
a
wicked
and
furtive
satisfaction
that
Catherine
might
now
learn
there
were
more
opinions
in
the
world
than
one
.
As
for
the
rest
of
the
valley
,
Mrs.
Leyburn
soon
passed
from
bewailing
to
a
plaintive
indignation
with
Robert
,
which
was
a
relief
to
her
daughters
.
It
seemed
to
her
a
reflection
on
'
Richard
'
that
Robert
should
have
behaved
so
.
Church
opinions
had
been
good
enough
for
'
Richard
.
'
'
The
young
men
seem
to
think
,
my
dears
,
their
fathers
were
all
fools
!
'
The
vicar
,
good
man
,
was
sincerely
distressed
,
but
sincerely
confident
,
also
