On a table near her is a rich bauble of a casket, barred and clasped like an old strong-chest. She, looking at him still, takes it to her and unlocks it.
"Oh! I assure your ladyship I am not actuated by any motives of that sort," says Mr. Guppy, "and I couldn't accept anything of the kind. I wish your ladyship good day, and am much obliged to you all the same."
So the young man makes his bow and goes downstairs, where the supercilious Mercury does not consider himself called upon to leave his Olympus by the hall-fire to let the young man out.
As Sir Leicester basks in his library and dozes over his newspaper, is there no influence in the house to startle him, not to say to make the very trees at Chesney Wold fling up their knotted arms, the very portraits frown, the very armour stir?
No. Words, sobs, and cries are but air, and air is so shut in and shut out throughout the house in town that sounds need be uttered trumpet-tongued indeed by my Lady in her chamber to carry any faint vibration to Sir Leicester's ears; and yet this cry is in the house, going upward from a wild figure on its knees.

On a table near her is a rich bauble of a casket. Looking at him, she unlocks it.
"Oh! I assure your ladyship I couldn't accept anything of the kind," says Mr. Guppy. "I wish your ladyship good day."
So the young man makes his bow and leaves.
As Sir Leicester dozes over his newspaper in the library, is there no influence in the house to startle him, to make the very portraits frown, the very armour stir?
No. Sobs and cries are only air, and air is so shut in throughout the house in town that no vibration is carried to Sir Leicester's ears; and yet this cry is in the house, going from a wild figure on its knees.
