A woman in early life had married a scamp, who deserted



GEORGE ELIOT. 129

her, leaving two children, a son and a daughter. She
fled with ihem to the lake of Geneva, where she united
herself with a wealthy merchant with whom she lived
for twenty years, the children being brought up as his.
At last her husband discovered her retreat, came unex-
pectedly to the home, and revealed to the son that he
was his father. The merchant, afterwards entering,
saluted his supposed daughter with the customary kiss.
The son immediately struck him on the face and cried,
"You have not the right to do that," upon which the
audience applauded loudly, as if he had done an heroic
action. Turguenieff alone stood up in his box and
hissed. George Eliot hung eagerly upon his words as he
told the tale. Lewes sat at some distance. Such was
ihe French view of marriage, preferring the shadow to
the substance, the legal tie to the bond of custom,
affection, and gratitude. The party broke up deeply
stirred, and Lewes said that the English would have
behaved just as badly. It seemed to me strange that
George Eliot should insist on hearing for a second time
every detail of an imaginary story, which appeared to
touch so nearly the deepest problems of her own life.
