Gwendolen had slipped on to the music-stool, and looked up at him with pain in her long eyes, like a wounded animal asking for help.

Gwendolen, sitting on the music-stool, looked up at him with pain in her eyes, like a wounded animal asking for help.


"Are you persuading Mrs. Grandcourt to play to us, Dan?"


said Sir Hugo, coming up and putting his hand on Deronda's shoulder with a gentle, admonitory pinch.


"I cannot persuade myself," said Gwendolen, rising.


Others had followed Sir Hugo's lead, and there was an end of any liability to confidences for that day.

There was an end of any confidences for that day.


But the next was New Year's Eve; and a grand dance, to which the chief tenants were invited, was to be held in the picture-gallery above the cloister--the sort of entertainment in which numbers and general movement may create privacy.

But the next was New Year's Eve; and a grand dance, to which the chief tenants were invited, was to be held in the picture-gallery above the cloister.


When Gwendolen was dressing, she longed, in remembrance of Leubronn, to put on the old turquoise necklace for her sole ornament; but she dared not offend her husband by appearing in that shabby way on an occasion when he would demand her utmost splendor.

When Gwendolen was dressing, she longed, in remembrance of Leubronn, to put on the old turquoise necklace for her sole ornament; but she dared not offend her husband by appearing in that shabby way on an occasion when he would demand her utmost splendour.


Determined to wear the memorial necklace somehow, she wound it thrice round her wrist and made a bracelet of it--having gone to her room to put it on just before the time of entering the ball-room.

Determined to wear the necklace somehow, she wound it thrice round her wrist and made a bracelet of it just before entering the ball-room.


It was always a beautiful scene, this dance on New Year's Eve, which had been kept up by the family tradition as nearly in the old fashion as inexorable change would allow.

It was always a beautiful scene, this dance on New Year's Eve, which had been kept up by family tradition.


Red carpet was laid down for the occasion: hot-house plants and evergreens were arranged in bowers at the extremities and in every recess of the gallery; and the old portraits stretching back through generations, even to the pre-portraying period, made a piquant line of spectators.

Red carpet was laid down for the occasion: hot-house plants and evergreens were arranged in every recess of the gallery; and the old portraits made a piquant line of spectators.


Some neighboring gentry, major and minor, were invited; and it was certainly an occasion when a prospective master and mistress of Abbott's and King's Topping might see their future glory in an agreeable light, as a picturesque provincial supremacy with a rent-roll personified by the most prosperous-looking tenants. Sir Hugo expected Grandcourt to feel flattered by being asked to the Abbey at a time which included this festival in honor of the family estate; but he also hoped that his own hale appearance might impress his successor with the probable length of time that would elapse before the succession came, and with the wisdom of preferring a good actual sum to a minor property that must be waited for.

Some neighbouring gentry were invited; and Sir Hugo expected Grandcourt to feel flattered by being asked to the Abbey at a time which included this festival.


All present, down to the least important farmer's daughter, knew that they were to see "young Grandcourt," Sir Hugo's nephew, the presumptive heir and future baronet, now visiting the Abbey with his bride after an absence of many years; any coolness between uncle and nephew having, it is understood, given way to a friendly warmth.

All present knew that they were to see "young Grandcourt," Sir Hugo's nephew, the presumptive heir, now visiting the Abbey with his bride; and Gwendolen, opening the ball with Sir Hugo, was necessarily the focus of all eyes.


The bride opening the ball with Sir Hugo was necessarily the cynosure of all eyes; and less than a year before, if some magic mirror could have shown Gwendolen her actual position, she would have imagined herself moving in it with a glow of triumphant pleasure, conscious that she held in her hands a life full of favorable chances which her cleverness and spirit would enable her to make the best of.

A year before, if some magic mirror could have shown Gwendolen her position, she would have imagined herself in a glow of triumphant pleasure, ready to make the best of her cleverness and spirit in her new life.


And now she was wondering that she could get so little joy out of the exultation to which she had been suddenly lifted, away from the distasteful petty empire of her girlhood with its irksome lack of distinction and superfluity of sisters.

And now she was wondering that she could get so little joy out of her exalted state, above the petty empire of her girlhood with its irksome lack of distinction and superfluity of sisters.


She would have been glad to be even unreasonably elated, and to forget everything but the flattery of the moment; but she was like one courting sleep, in whom thoughts insist like willful tormentors.


Wondering in this way at her own dullness, and all the while longing for an excitement that would deaden importunate aches, she was passing through files of admiring beholders in the country-dance with which it was traditional to open the ball, and was being generally regarded by her own sex as an enviable woman. It was remarked that she carried herself with a wonderful air, considering that she had been nobody in particular, and without a farthing to her fortune.

Wondering in this way at her own dullness, and longing for an excitement that would deaden her aches, she passed through files of admiring beholders in the country-dance with which the ball opened, and was generally regarded by her own sex as an enviable woman, who carried herself with a wonderful air, considering her origins.


If she had been a duke's daughter, or one of the royal princesses, she could not have taken the honors of the evening more as a matter of course.


It would by-and-by become a sort of skill in which she was automatically practiced to bear this last great gambling loss with an air of perfect self-possession.

She would by-and-by become practised in the skill of bearing this last great gambling loss with an air of perfect self-possession.


The next couple that passed were also worth looking at.


Lady Pentreath had said, "I shall stand up for one dance, but I shall choose my partner. Mr. Deronda, you are the youngest man, I mean to dance with you.

Lady Pentreath had insisted on standing up with Mr. Deronda.


Nobody is old enough to make a good pair with me.


And the contrast certainly set off the old lady to the utmost.

The contrast certainly set off the old lady well.


She was one of those women who are never handsome till they are old, and she had had the wisdom to embrace the beauty of age as early as possible.

She was one of those women who are never handsome till they are old, and she had wisely embraced the beauty of age as early as possible.


What might have seemed harshness in her features when she was young, had turned now into a satisfactory strength of form and expression which defied wrinkles, and was set off by a crown of white hair; her well-built figure was well covered with black drapery, her ears and neck comfortably caressed with lace, showing none of those withered spaces which one would think it a pitiable condition of poverty to expose.

What might have seemed harshness in her face when she was young, had turned now into a satisfactory strength of feature which defied wrinkles, and was set off by a crown of white hair.


She glided along gracefully enough, her dark eyes still with a mischievous smile in them as she observed the company.

She glided along gracefully, with a mischievous smile in her eyes as she observed the company.


Her partner's young richness of tint against the flattened hues and rougher forms of her aged head had an effect something like that of a fine flower against a lichenous branch.

Her partner's young richness of tint against her flattened hues had an effect something like that of a fine flower against a lichenous branch.


Perhaps the tenants hardly appreciated this pair.


Lady Pentreath was nothing more than a straight, active old lady: Mr. Deronda was a familiar figure regarded with friendliness; but if he had been the heir, it would have been regretted that his face was not as unmistakably English as Sir Hugo's.


Grandcourt's appearance when he came up with Lady Mallinger was not impeached with foreignness: still the satisfaction in it was not complete.

Grandcourt stood up with Lady Mallinger.


It would have been matter of congratulation if one who had the luck to inherit two old family estates had had more hair, a fresher color, and a look of greater animation; but that fine families dwindled off into females, and estates ran together into the single heirship of a mealy-complexioned male, was a tendency in things which seemed to be accounted for by a citation of other instances. It was agreed that Mr. Grandcourt could never be taken for anything but what he was--a born gentleman; and that, in fact, he looked like an heir.

It was agreed by onlookers that the heir to the estate could have had more hair, a fresher colour, and greater animation; but that Mr. Grandcourt could never be taken for anything but a born gentleman.


Perhaps the person least complacently disposed toward him at that moment was Lady Mallinger, to whom going in procession up this country-dance with Grandcourt was a blazonment of herself as the infelicitous wife who had produced nothing but daughters, little better than no children, poor dear things, except for her own fondness and for Sir Hugo's wonderful goodness to them.

Perhaps the person least well-disposed toward him at that moment was Lady Mallinger, to whom this country-dance with Grandcourt was a blazonment of herself as the unlucky wife who had produced nothing but daughters.


But such inward discomfort could not prevent the gentle lady from looking fair and stout to admiration, or her full blue eyes from glancing mildly at her neighbors.


All the mothers and fathers held it a thousand pities that she had not had a fine boy, or even several--which might have been expected, to look at her when she was first married.


The gallery included only three sides of the quadrangle, the fourth being shut off as a lobby or corridor: one side was used for dancing, and the opposite side for the supper-table, while the intermediate part was less brilliantly lit, and fitted with comfortable seats.

One side of the quadrangle was used for dancing, and the opposite side for the supper-table; a third side was less brilliantly lit, and fitted with comfortable seats.


Later in the evening Gwendolen was in one of these seats, and Grandcourt was standing near her.


They were not talking to each other: she was leaning backward in her chair, and he against the wall; and Deronda, happening to observe this, went up to ask her if she had resolved not to dance any more.

They were not talking to each other; and Deronda, observing this, went up to ask her if she had resolved not to dance any more.


Having himself been doing hard duty in this way among the guests, he thought he had earned the right to sink for a little while into the background, and he had spoken little to Gwendolen since their conversation at the piano the day before.

Having himself been doing hard duty at dancing with the guests, he thought he had earned the right to sink into the background, and he had spoken little to Gwendolen since their conversation at the piano the day before.


Grandcourt's presence would only make it the easier to show that pleasure in talking to her even about trivialities which would be a sign of friendliness; and he fancied that her face looked blank.

Grandcourt's presence would make it the easier to show his friendly pleasure in talking to her, even about trivialities.


A smile beamed over it as she saw him coming, and she raised herself from her leaning posture.

Her face looked blank, but a smile beamed from it as she saw him coming, and she raised herself from her leaning posture.


Grandcourt had been grumbling at the _ennui_ of staying so long in this stupid dance, and proposing that they should vanish: she had resisted on the ground of politeness--not without being a little frightened at the probability that he was silently angry with her.

Grandcourt had been grumbling at the tedium of this stupid dance, and proposing that they should vanish: she had resisted on the ground of politeness, even though she was a little frightened that he was silently angry with her.


She had her reason for staying, though she had begun to despair of the opportunity for the sake of which she had put the old necklace on her wrist.

She began to despair of the opportunity for which she had put the old necklace on her wrist.


Are you not glad that you need not ask me?"


she said, with some gayety, "you might have felt obliged humbly to offer yourself as a partner, and I feel sure you have danced more than you like already."

she said gaily. "I feel sure you have danced more than you like already."


"I will not deny that," said Deronda, "since you have danced as much as you like."


"But will you take trouble for me in another way, and fetch me a glass of that fresh water?"

"But will you take trouble for me in another way, and fetch me a glass of water?"


It was but a few steps that Deronda had to go for the water.


Gwendolen was wrapped in the lightest, softest of white woolen burnouses, under which her hands were hidden.

Gwendolen was wrapped in the lightest of white woollen wraps, under which her hands were hidden.


While he was gone she had drawn off her glove, which was finished with a lace ruffle, and when she put up her hand to take the glass and lifted it to her mouth, the necklace-bracelet, which in its triple winding adapted itself clumsily to her wrist, was necessarily conspicuous.

While he was gone she had drawn off her glove, and when she put up her hand to take the glass and drink, the necklace-bracelet, with its clumsy triple winding, was conspicuous.


Grandcourt saw it, and saw that it was attracting Deronda's notice.


"What is that hideous thing you have got on your wrist?"


said Gwendolen, composedly, pointing to the turquoises, while she still held the glass; "it is an old necklace I like to wear.

said Gwendolen, composedly; "it is an old necklace I like to wear.


I lost it once, and someone found it for me."


With that she gave the glass again to Deronda, who immediately carried it away, and on returning said, in order to banish any consciousness about the necklace,

With that she gave the glass again to Deronda, who carried it away, and on returning said, in order to banish any consciousness about the necklace-


"It is worth while for you to go and look out at one of the windows on that side.

"It is worth going to look out of the windows on that side.


You can see the finest possible moonlight on the stone pillars and carving, and shadows waving across it in the wind."

You can see the finest possible moonlight on the stone pillars and carving."


said Gwendolen, looking up at her husband.


He cast his eyes down at her, and saying, "No, Deronda will take you," slowly moved from his leaning attitude, and walked away.

Saying, "No, Deronda will take you," he slowly walked away.


Gwendolen's face for a moment showed a fleeting vexation: she resented this show of indifference toward her.

Gwendolen's face showed a fleeting vexation at this show of indifference toward her.


Deronda felt annoyed, chiefly for her sake; and with a quick sense, that it would relieve her most to behave as if nothing peculiar had occurred, he said, "Will you take my arm and go, while only servants are there?"

Deronda felt annoyed for her sake; and with a sense that it would relieve her to behave as if nothing unusual had occurred, he said, "Will you take my arm and go, while only servants are there?"


He thought that he understood well her action in drawing his attention to the necklace: she wished him to infer that she had submitted her mind to rebuke--her speech and manner had from the first fluctuated toward that submission--and that she felt no lingering resentment.

He thought that he understood her action in drawing his attention to the necklace: she wished him to infer that she had submitted herself to rebuke, and that she felt no lingering resentment.


Her evident confidence in his interpretation of her appealed to him as a peculiar claim.

Her evident confidence in his interpretation appealed to him.


When they were walking together, Gwendolen felt as if the annoyance which had just happened had removed another film of reserve from between them, and she had more right than before to be as open as she wished.

As they walked together, Gwendolen felt as if the previous annoyance had removed another veil of reserve from between them.


She did not speak, being filled with the sense of silent confidence, until they were in front of the window looking out on the moonlit court.

She did not speak until they were at the window looking out on the moonlit court.


A sort of bower had been made round the window, turning it into a recess.


Quitting his arm, she folded her hands in her burnous, and pressed her brow against the glass.

She folded her hands in her wrap, and pressed her brow against the glass.


He moved slightly away, and held the lapels of his coat with his thumbs under the collar as his manner was: he had a wonderful power of standing perfectly still, and in that position reminded one sometimes of Dante's _spiriti magni con occhi tardi e gravi_. (Doubtless some of these danced in their youth, doubted of their own vocation, and found their own times too modern.) He abstained from remarking on the scene before them, fearing that any indifferent words might jar on her: already the calm light and shadow, the ancient steadfast forms, and aloofness enough from those inward troubles which he felt sure were agitating her.

He moved slightly away, abstaining from remarking on the scene, for fear that any indifferent words might jar on her: already the calm light and shadow, the ancient steadfast forms, had aloofness enough from her inward troubles.


And he judged aright: she would have been impatient of polite conversation.

He judged aright: she would have been impatient of polite conversation.


The incidents of the last minute or two had receded behind former thoughts which she had imagined herself uttering to Deronda, which now urged themselves to her lips.


"Suppose I had gambled again, and lost the necklace again, what should you have thought of me?"


You wanted me not to do that--not to make my gain out of another's loss in that way--and I have done a great deal worse."

You wanted me not to make gain out of another's loss in that way - and I have done a great deal worse."


"I can't imagine temptations," said Deronda.

"I can imagine temptations," said Deronda.


"Perhaps I am able to understand what you mean.


"And at least I understand self-reproach."


In spite of preparation he was almost alarmed at Gwendolen's precipitancy of confidence toward him, in contrast with her habitual resolute concealment.

He was almost alarmed at her sudden confidence toward him, in contrast with her habitual concealment.


"What should you do if you were like me--feeling that you were wrong and miserable, and dreading everything to come?"

"What should you do if you were like me - feeling that you were wrong and miserable, and dreading everything to come?"


It seemed that she was hurrying to make the utmost use of this opportunity to speak as she would.

It seemed that she was hurrying to make the utmost use of this opportunity to speak.


"That is not to be amended by doing one thing only--but many," said Deronda, decisively.

"That is not to be amended by doing one thing only - but many," said Deronda, decisively.


said Gwendolen, hastily, moving her brow from the glass and looking at him.

said Gwendolen, moving away from the glass and looking at him.


He looked full at her in return, with what she thought was severity.

He looked full at her in return, with some severity.


He felt that it was not a moment in which he must let himself be tender, and flinch from implying a hard opinion.

He felt he must not let himself be tender.


"I mean there are many thoughts and habits that may help us to bear inevitable sorrow.


She turned her brow to the window again, and said impatiently, "You must tell me then what to think and what to do; else why did you not let me go on doing as I liked and not minding?

She turned to the window again, and said impatiently, "You must tell me then what to think and what to do; else why did you not let me go on gambling?


If I had gone on gambling I might have won again, and I might have got not to care for anything else.

I might have won again, and I might not have to care for anything else.


Why shouldn't I do as I like, and not mind?


Poor Gwendolen's speech expressed nothing very clearly except her irritation.


"I don't believe you would ever get not to mind," said Deronda, with deep-toned decision.


"If it were true that baseness and cruelty made an escape from pain, what difference would that make to people who can't be quite base or cruel?


Idiots escape some pain; but you can't be an idiot.

"Idiots escape pain; but you can't be an idiot.


Some may do wrong to another without remorse; but suppose one does feel remorse?


I believe you could never lead an injurious life--all reckless lives are injurious, pestilential--without feeling remorse."

I believe you could never lead an injurious life without feeling remorse."


Deronda's unconscious fervor had gathered as he went on: he was uttering thoughts which he had used for himself in moments of painful meditation.


"Then tell me what better I can do," said Gwendolen, insistently.


See what their troubles are, and how they are borne.


Try to care about something in this vast world besides the gratification of small selfish desires.


Try to care for what is best in thought and action--something that is good apart from the accidents of your own lot."

Try to care for something that is good apart from the accidents of your own lot."


For an instant or two Gwendolen was mute.


Then, again moving her brow from the glass, she said,


"You mean that I am selfish and ignorant."


He met her fixed look in silence before he answered firmly--"You will not go on being selfish and ignorant!"

He met her fixed look in silence before he answered firmly- "You will not go on being selfish and ignorant."


She did not turn away her glance or let her eyelids fall, but a change came over her face--that subtle change in nerve and muscle which will sometimes give a childlike expression even to the elderly: it is the subsidence of self-assertion.

She did not turn away her glance, but a subtle change came over her face: the subsidence of self-assertion.


said Deronda, gently, turning and offering her his arm again.

said Deronda, gently offering her his arm.


She took it silently, and in that way they came in sight of Grandcourt, who was walking slowly near their former place.

She took it silently, and that way they came in sight of Grandcourt.


Gwendolen went up to him and said, "I am ready to go now.


Mr. Deronda will excuse us to Lady Mallinger."


"Lord and Lady Pentreath disappeared some time ago."


Grandcourt gave his arm in silent compliance, nodding over his shoulder to Deronda, and Gwendolen too only half turned to bow and say, "Thanks."

Grandcourt gave his arm in silent compliance, nodding over his shoulder to Deronda, and Gwendolen half turned to bow and say, "Thanks."


The husband and wife left the gallery and paced the corridors in silence.


When the door had closed on them in the boudoir, Grandcourt threw himself into a chair and said, with undertoned peremptoriness, "Sit down."


She, already in the expectation of something unpleasant, had thrown off her burnous with nervous unconsciousness, and immediately obeyed.

She, already expecting something unpleasant, had nervously thrown off her shawl, and immediately obeyed.


"Oblige me in future by not showing whims like a mad woman in a play."


"I suppose there is some understanding between you and Deronda about that thing you have on your wrist.


If you have anything to say to him, say it.


But don't carry on a telegraphing which other people are supposed not to see.


"You can know all about the necklace," said Gwendolen, her angry pride resisting the nightmare of fear.


Grandcourt paused between each sentence, and in each his speech seemed to become more preternaturally distinct in its inward tones.

Grandcourt paused between each sentence, and in each his speech seemed to become more distinct in its inward tones.


"What I care to know I shall know without your telling me.


Only you will please to behave as becomes my wife. And not make a spectacle of yourself."

Only you will behave as becomes my wife, and not make a spectacle of yourself."


"Do you object to my talking to Mr. Deronda?"


"I don't care two straws about Deronda, or any other conceited hanger-on.

"I don't care two straws about Deronda, or any other hanger-on.


You may talk to him as much as you like.


And you will either fill your place properly--to the world and to me--or you will go to the devil."

And you will either fill your place properly or you will go to the devil."


"I never intended anything but to fill my place properly," said Gwendolen, with bitterest mortification in her soul.


"You put that thing on your wrist, and hid it from me till you wanted him to see it.


Only fools go into that deaf and dumb talk, and think they're secret.


You will understand that you are not to compromise yourself.


With that last word Grandcourt rose, turned his back to the fire and looked down on her.

With that last word Grandcourt turned his back to the fire and looked down on her.


There was no reproach that she dared to fling back at him in return for these insulting admonitions, and the very reason she felt them to be insulting was that their purport went with the most absolute dictate of her pride.

There was no reproach that she dared to fling back at him.


What she would least like to incur was the making a fool of herself and being compromised.

She dreaded making a fool of herself and being compromised.


It was futile and irrelevant to try and explain that Deronda too had only been a monitor--the strongest of all monitors.

It was futile to try and explain that Deronda had only been a monitor.


Grandcourt was contemptuous, not jealous; contemptuously certain of all the subjection he cared for.

Grandcourt was contemptuous, not jealous; contemptuously certain of her subjection.


But she might as well have tried to defy the texture of her nerves and the palpitation of her heart.

But she might as well have tried to defy the palpitation of her heart.


Her husband had a ghostly army at his back, that could close round her wherever she might turn.

Her husband had a ghostly army at his back, that closed around her.


She sat in her splendid attire, like a white image of helplessness, and he seemed to gratify himself with looking at her.

She sat in her splendid attire, a white image of helplessness, and he seemed to gratify himself with looking at her.


She could not even make a passionate exclamation, or throw up her arms, as she would have done in her maiden days.

She could not even throw up her arms, as she would have done in her maiden days.


he said, after what seemed to her a long while.


She moved her head in assent, and after ringing he went to his dressing-room.


"The wrong you have done me will be your own curse."


As he closed the door, the bitter tears rose, and the gnawing words provoked an answer: "Why did you put your fangs into me and not into him?"

As he closed the door, the bitter tears rose, and the gnawing words provoked a whispered answer: "Why did you put your fangs into me and not into him?"


It was uttered in a whisper, as the tears came up silently.


But she immediately pressed her handkerchief against her eyes, and checked her tendency to sob.

She pressed her handkerchief against her eyes, and checked her tendency to sob.


The next day, recovered from the shuddering fit of this evening scene, she determined to use the charter which Grandcourt had scornfully given her, and to talk as much as she liked with Deronda; but no opportunities occurred, and any little devices she could imagine for creating them were rejected by her pride, which was now doubly active.

The next day, recovered from the shuddering fit of this evening scene, she determined to use the charter which Grandcourt had scornfully given her to talk as much as she liked with Deronda; but no opportunities occurred, and she dared not devise any for the sake of her pride and dignity.


Not toward Deronda himself--she was singularly free from alarm lest he should think her openness wanting in dignity: it was part of his power over her that she believed him free from all misunderstanding as to the way in which she appealed to him; or rather, that he should misunderstand her had never entered into her mind.

Although she did not think that Deronda would misunderstand her openness, others might.


But the last morning came, and still she had never been able to take up the dropped thread of their talk, and she was without devices.

But when the last morning came, still she had never been able to take up the dropped thread of their talk.


She and Grandcourt were to leave at three o'clock.


It was too irritating that after a walk in the grounds had been planned in Deronda's hearing, he did not present himself to join in it.

It was too irritating that after a walk in the grounds had been planned in Deronda's hearing, he did not join in it.


Grandcourt was gone with Sir Hugo to King's Topping, to see the old manor-house; others of the gentlemen were shooting; she was condemned to go and see the decoy and the waterfowl, and everything else that she least wanted to see, with the ladies, with old Lord Pentreath and his anecdotes, with Mr. Vandernoodt and his admiring manners.

Grandcourt had gone out with Sir Hugo; other gentlemen were shooting; she was condemned to go and see the waterfowl, and everything else that she least wanted to see, with the ladies and Mr. Vandernoodt.


The irritation became too strong for her; without premeditation, she took advantage of the winding road to linger a little out of sight, and then set off back to the house, almost running when she was safe from observation.

The irritation became too strong for her; without premeditation, she took advantage of the winding road to linger out of sight, and then set off back to the house, almost running when she was safe from observation.


She entered by a side door, and the library was on her left hand; Deronda, she knew, was often there; why might she not turn in there as well as into any other room in the house?

She entered by a side door, near the library. Deronda, she knew, was often there; why might she not enter?


She had been taken there expressly to see the illuminated family tree, and other remarkable things--what more natural than that she should like to look in again?

She had been taken there expressly to see the family tree - what more natural than that she should like to look in again?


The thing most to be feared was that the room would be empty of Deronda, for the door was ajar.


She pushed it gently, and looked round it.


He was there, writing busily at a distant table, with his back toward the door (in fact, Sir Hugo had asked him to answer some constituents' letters which had become pressing).

Deronda was there, writing at a distant table, with his back toward the door (Sir Hugo had asked him to answer some constituents' letters).


An enormous log fire, with the scent of Russia from the books, made the great room as warmly odorous as a private chapel in which the censors have been swinging.

An enormous log fire warmed the great room.


It seemed too daring to go in--too rude to speak and interrupt him; yet she went in on the noiseless carpet, and stood still for two or three minutes, till Deronda, having finished a letter, pushed it aside for signature, and threw himself back to consider whether there were anything else for him to do, or whether he could walk out for the chance of meeting the party which included Gwendolen, when he heard her voice saying, "Mr.

It seemed too daring to go in - too rude to interrupt him; yet she went in on the noiseless carpet, and stood still for two or three minutes, till Deronda, having finished a letter, pushed it aside. He sat back to consider whether he could walk out for the chance of meeting the party which included Gwendolen, when he heard her voice saying, "Mr.


He rose hastily, turned round, and pushed away his chair with a strong expression of surprise.

He rose hastily, and turned with a strong expression of surprise.


"I thought you were far on your walk," said Deronda.

"I thought you were on your walk," he said.


I could join you now, if you would allow me."


"No; I want to say something, and I can't stay long," said Gwendolen, speaking quickly in a subdued tone, while she walked forward and rested her arms and muff on the back of the chair he had pushed away from him.

"No; I want to say something, and I can't stay long," said Gwendolen, speaking quickly and quietly, while she walked forward and rested her arms on the back of a chair.


"I want to tell you that it is really so--I can't help feeling remorse for having injured others.

"I want to tell you that it is so - I can't help feeling remorse for having injured others.


That was what I meant when I said that I had done worse than gamble again and pawn the necklace again--something more injurious, as you called it.

That was what I meant when I said that I had done worse than gamble again.


What should you do--what should you feel if you were in my place?"

What should you do - what should you feel if you were in my place?"


The hurried directness with which she spoke--the absence of all her little airs, as if she were only concerned to use the time in getting an answer that would guide her, made her appeal unspeakably touching.

The hurried directness with which she spoke - the absence of all her little airs - made her appeal unspeakably touching.


Deronda said, "I should feel something of what you feel--deep sorrow."

Deronda said- "I should feel what you feel: deep sorrow."


"Order my life so as to make any possible amends, and keep away from doing any sort of injury again," said Deronda, catching her sense that the time for speech was brief.

"Order my life so as to make any possible amends, and keep away from doing any injury again," said Deronda.


"But I can't--I can't; I must go on," said Gwendolen, in a passionate loud whisper.

"But I can't - I can't; I must go on," said Gwendolen, in a passionate loud whisper.


"I have thrust out others--I have made my gain out of their loss--tried to make it--tried.

"I have made my gain out of others' loss - tried to make it.


It was impossible to answer this instantaneously.


Her words had confirmed his conjecture, and the situation of all concerned rose in swift images before him.

Her words had confirmed his guess, and the situation rose in swift images before him.


His feeling for those who had been thrust out sanctioned her remorse; he could not try to nullify it, yet his heart was full of pity for her.

He felt for those who had been thrust out, yet his heart was full of pity for her.


But as soon as he could he answered--taking up her last words,


"That is the bitterest of all--to wear the yoke of our own wrong-doing.

"It is bitter to bear our own wrong-doing.


But if you submitted to that as men submit to maiming or life-long incurable disease?--and made the unalterable wrong a reason for more effort toward a good, that may do something to counterbalance the evil?

But if you submitted to that as men submit to incurable disease? If you made the wrong a reason for more effort toward good, that may do something to counterbalance the evil.


One who has committed irremediable errors may be scourged by that consciousness into a higher course than is common.


Feeling what it is to have spoiled one life may well make us long to save other lives from being spoiled."

Feeling what it is to have spoiled one life may make us long to save other lives from being spoiled."


"But you have not wronged any one, or spoiled their lives," said Gwendolen, hastily.

"But you have not wronged anyone, or spoiled their lives," said Gwendolen, hastily.


"It is only others who have wronged _you_."

"It is only others who have wronged you.


Deronda colored slightly, but said immediately--"I suppose our keen feeling for ourselves might end in giving us a keen feeling for others, if, when we are suffering acutely, we were to consider that others go through the same sharp experience.


That is a sort of remorse before commission.


I have never thought much of any one's feelings, except my mother's.

I have never thought much of anyone's feelings, except my mother's.


"I must get up in the morning and do what every one else does.

I must get up in the morning and do what everyone else does.


I seem to see all that can be--and I am tired and sick of it.


And the world is all confusion to me"--she made a gesture of disgust.

And the world is all confusion to me" - she made a gesture of disgust.


But what is the good of trying to know more, unless life were worth more?"


"This good," said Deronda promptly, with a touch of indignant severity, which he was inclined to encourage as his own safeguard; "life _would_ be worth more to you: some real knowledge would give you an interest in the world beyond the small drama of personal desires.

"Life would be worth more to you," said Deronda with indignant severity, which he encouraged as his own safeguard, "if some real knowledge were to give you an interest in the world beyond the small drama of personal desires.


It is the curse of your life--forgive me--of so many lives, that all passion is spent in that narrow round, for want of ideas and sympathies to make a larger home for it.

It is the curse of your life - forgive me - of so many lives, that all passion is spent in that narrow round, for want of ideas to make a larger home for it.


Is there any single occupation of mind that you care about with passionate delight or even independent interest?"

Is there any occupation of mind that you care about with delight or interest?"


Deronda paused, but Gwendolen, looking startled and thrilled as by an electric shock, said nothing, and he went on more insistently,

Deronda paused, but Gwendolen, looking startled and thrilled as by an electric shock, said nothing, and he went on-


"I take what you said of music for a small example--it answers for all larger things--you will not cultivate it for the sake of a private joy in it.

"I take what you said of music for a small example: you will not cultivate it for the sake of a private joy.


What sort of earth or heaven would hold any spiritual wealth in it for souls pauperized by inaction?


If one firmament has no stimulus for our attention and awe, I don't see how four would have it.


We should stamp every possible world with the flatness of our own inanity--which is necessarily impious, without faith or fellowship.


The refuge you are needing from personal trouble is the higher, the religious life, which holds an enthusiasm for something more than our own appetites and vanities.

The refuge you need from personal trouble is the higher, the religious life, which holds an enthusiasm for something more than our own appetites and vanities.


The few may find themselves in it simply by an elevation of feeling; but for us who have to struggle for our wisdom, the higher life must be a region in which the affections are clad with knowledge."

The few may find themselves in it simply by an elevation of feeling; but for us who have to struggle for our wisdom, the higher life must be a region which we reach by knowledge."


The half-indignant remonstrance that vibrated in Deronda's voice came, as often happens, from the habit of inward argument with himself rather than from severity toward Gwendolen: but it had a more beneficial effect on her than any soothings.

The remonstrance in Deronda's voice came from the habit of inward argument with himself rather than from severity toward Gwendolen: but it had a more beneficial effect on her than any soothings.


Nothing is feebler than the indolent rebellion of complaint; and to be roused into self-judgment is comparative activity. For the moment she felt like a shaken child--shaken out of its wailing into awe, and she said humbly,

She was roused into self-judgment, like a child shaken out of its wailing into awe, and she said humbly-


They both stood silent for a minute, as if some third presence had arrested them,--for Deronda, too, was under that sense of pressure which is apt to come when our own winged words seem to be hovering around us,--till Gwendolen began again,

They both stood silent for a minute, as if some third presence had halted them - for Deronda, too, was under that sense of pressure which comes when our own winged words seem to be hovering around us - till Gwendolen began again.


"You said affection was the best thing, and I have hardly any--none about me.

"You said affection was the best thing, and I have none about me.


If I could, I would have mamma; but that is impossible.


Things have changed to me so--in such a short time.

Things have changed in such a short time.


I think I am almost getting fond of the old things now they are gone."

I think I am almost fond of the old things now they are gone."


"Take the present suffering as a painful letting in of light," said Deronda, more gently.


"You are conscious of more beyond the round of your own inclinations--you know more of the way in which your life presses on others, and their life on yours.

"You are conscious of more beyond yourself. You are learning the way in which your life presses on others, and their life on yours.


I don't think you could have escaped the painful process in some form or other."


"But it is a very cruel form," said Gwendolen, beating her foot on the ground with returning agitation.

"But it is a very cruel form," said Gwendolen, beating her foot on the ground with agitation.


When my blood is fired I can do daring things--take any leap; but that makes me frightened at myself."

When my blood is fired I can do daring things - take any leap; but that makes me frightened at myself."


She was looking at nothing outside her; but her eyes were directed toward the window, away from Deronda, who, with quick comprehension said,


Keep your dread fixed on the idea of increasing that remorse which is so bitter to you.


Fixed meditation may do a great deal toward defining our longing or dread.


We are not always in a state of strong emotion, and when we are calm we can use our memories and gradually change the bias of our fear, as we do our tastes.

When we are calm we can use our memories and gradually change the bias of our fear, as we do our tastes.


Take your fear as a safeguard. It is like quickness of hearing. It may make consequences passionately present to you.

Take your fear as a safeguard, like quickness of hearing, that can warn you of consequences.


Try to take hold of your sensibility, and use it as if it were a faculty, like vision."

Try to take hold of your sensibility, and use it as a faculty, like vision."


Deronda uttered each sentence more urgently; he felt as if he were seizing a faint chance of rescuing her from some indefinite danger.


"Yes, I know; I understand what you mean," said Gwendolen in her loud whisper, not turning her eyes, but lifting up her small gloved hand and waving it in deprecation of the notion that it was easy to obey that advice.

"Yes, I know; I understand what you mean," said Gwendolen.


"But if feelings rose--there are some feelings--hatred and anger--how can I be good when they keep rising?

"But if feelings rose - hatred and anger - how can I be good when they keep rising?


And if there came a moment when I felt stifled and could bear it no longer----" She broke off, and with agitated lips looked at Deronda, but the expression on his face pierced her with an entirely new feeling.

And if there came a moment when I felt stifled and could bear it no longer-"
She broke off, agitated, and looked at Deronda, but the expression on his face pierced her with an entirely new feeling.


He was under the baffling difficulty of discerning that what he had been urging on her was thrown into the pallid distance of mere thought before the outburst of her habitual emotion.

He was under the baffling difficulty of seeing his urgings as mere pallid words before the outburst of her emotion.


It was as if he saw her drowning while his limbs were bound.


The pained compassion which was spread over his features as he watched her, affected her with a compunction unlike any she had felt before, and in a changed and imploring tone she said,

The pained compassion in his features as he watched her, affected her with a compunction unlike any she had felt before. In a changed and imploring tone she said-


Tell me--it will not be a pain to you that I have dared to speak of my trouble to you?

You will not mind that I have dared to speak of my trouble to you?


You began it, you know, when you rebuked me."


There was a melancholy smile on her lips as she said that, but she added more entreatingly, "It will not be a pain to you?"

She said this with a melancholy smile, but added more entreatingly, "It will not be a pain to you?"


"Not if it does anything to save you from an evil to come," said Deronda, with strong emphasis; "otherwise, it will be a lasting pain."

"Not if it does anything to save you from an evil to come," said Deronda strongly; "otherwise, it will be a lasting pain."


It may be--it shall be better with me because I have known you."

It shall be better with me because I have known you."


She turned immediately, and quitted the room.


When she was on the first landing of the staircase, Sir Hugo passed across the hall on his way to the library, and saw her.

When she was on the staircase, Sir Hugo crossed the hall on his way to the library, and saw her.


Deronda, when the baronet entered, was standing in his ordinary attitude, grasping his coat-collar, with his back to the table, and with that indefinable expression by which we judge that a man is still in the shadow of a scene which he has just gone through.

When the baronet entered, Deronda was standing in his usual attitude, grasping his coat-collar, with that indefinable expression of a man still in the shadow of a scene which he has just gone through.


He moved, however, and began to arrange the letters.

He moved, and began to arrange the letters.


"I believe she left them somewhere in the grounds."


After a moment's silence, in which Sir Hugo looked at a letter without reading it, he said "I hope you are not playing with fire, Dan--you understand me?"

After a moment's silence, Sir Hugo said, "I hope you are not playing with fire, Dan - you understand me?"


"I believe I do, sir," said Deronda, after a slight hesitation, which had some repressed anger in it.

"I believe I do, sir," said Deronda, with some repressed anger.


"But there is nothing answering to your metaphor--no fire, and therefore no chance of scorching."

"But there is no fire, and therefore no chance of scorching."


Sir Hugo looked searchingly at him, and then said, "So much the better.


For, between ourselves, I fancy there may be some hidden gunpowder in that establishment."

For, between ourselves, I fancy there may be some hidden gunpowder in that marriage."


"Surely whoever speaks to me in the right voice, him or her I shall follow.


As the water follows the moon, silently, with fluid steps anywhere around the globe."


"Now my cousins are at Diplow," said Grandcourt, "will you go there?--to-morrow?


The carriage shall come for Mrs. Davilow.


You can tell me what you would like done in the rooms.


Things must be put in decent order while we are away at Ryelands.


He was sitting sideways on a sofa in the drawing-room at Offendene, one hand and elbow resting on the back, and the other hand thrust between his crossed knees--in the attitude of a man who is much interested in watching the person next to him.

He was sitting on a sofa in the drawing-room at Offendene, one elbow resting on the back, in the attitude of a man who is much interested in watching the person next to him.


Gwendolen, who had always disliked needlework, had taken to it with apparent zeal since her engagement, and now held a piece of white embroidery which, on examination, would have shown many false stitches.


During the last eight or nine days their hours had been chiefly spent on horseback, but some margin had always been left for this more difficult sort of companionship, which, however, Gwendolen had not found disagreeable.

During the last eight or nine days their hours had been chiefly spent on horseback, but some time had been left for this more difficult sort of companionship, which, however, Gwendolen had not found disagreeable.


She was very well satisfied with Grandcourt.


His answers to her lively questions about what he had seen and done in his life, bore drawling very well.


From the first she had noticed that he knew what to say; and she was constantly feeling not only that he had nothing of the fool in his composition, but that by some subtle means he communicated to her the impression that all the folly lay with other people, who did what he did not care to do.

She felt not only that he had nothing of the fool in his composition, but that by some subtle means he gave the impression that all the folly lay with other people.


A man who seems to have been able to command the best, has a sovereign power of depreciation.


Then Grandcourt's behavior as a lover had hardly at all passed the limit of an amorous homage which was inobtrusive as a wafted odor of roses, and spent all its effects in a gratified vanity.

And then Grandcourt's behaviour as a lover had hardly passed the limit of an unobtrusive homage.


One day, indeed, he had kissed not her cheek but her neck a little below her ear; and Gwendolen, taken by surprise, had started up with a marked agitation which made him rise too and say, "I beg your pardon--did I annoy you?"

One day, indeed, he had kissed her neck, below her ear; and Gwendolen, taken by surprise, had started up with a marked agitation which made him say, "I beg your pardon - did I annoy you?"


"Oh, it was nothing," said Gwendolen, rather afraid of herself, "only I cannot bear--to be kissed under my ear."

"Oh, it was nothing," said Gwendolen, rather afraid of herself, "only I cannot bear - to be kissed under my ear."


She sat down again with a little playful laugh, but all the while she felt her heart beating with a vague fear: she was no longer at liberty to flout him as she had flouted poor Rex.

She sat down again with a little playful laugh, but felt her heart beating with a vague fear: she was no longer at liberty to flout him as she had flouted poor Rex.


Her agitation seemed not uncomplimentary, and he had been contented not to transgress again.

Her agitation seemed to him to be a compliment, and he was content not to transgress again.


To-day a slight rain hindered riding; but to compensate, a package had come from London, and Mrs. Davilow had just left the room after bringing in for admiration the beautiful things (of Grandcourt's ordering) which lay scattered about on the tables. Gwendolen was just then enjoying the scenery of her life.

Today rain hindered riding; but to compensate, a package had come from London, and beautiful things (of Grandcourt's ordering) lay scattered about on the tables for Gwendolen to enjoy.


She let her hands fall on her lap, and said with a pretty air of perversity,

She said with a pretty air of perversity-


"Because the next day is the first with the hounds," said Grandcourt.


"After that I must go away for a couple of days--it's a bore--but I shall go one day and come back the next."

"And after that I must go away for a couple of days - it's a bore - but I shall go one day and come back the next."


Grandcourt noticed a change in her face, and releasing his hand from under his knees, he laid it on hers, and said, "You object to my going away?"

He noticed a change in her face, and laying his hand on hers, he said, "You object to my going away?"


"It's no use objecting," said Gwendolen, coldly.


She was resisting to the utmost her temptation to tell him that she suspected to whom he was going--the temptation to make a clean breast, speaking without restraint.

She was resisting the temptation to tell him that she suspected to whom he was going.


"Yes it is," said Grandcourt, enfolding her hand. "I will put off going. And I will travel at night, so as only to be away one day."

Grandcourt said, enfolding her hand, "I will travel at night, so as only to be away one day."


He thought that he knew the reason of what he inwardly called this bit of temper, and she was particularly fascinating to him at this moment.


"Then don't put off going, but travel at night," said Gwendolen, feeling that she could command him, and finding in this peremptoriness a small outlet for her irritation.


"Oh, yes, if you wish it," said Gwendolen, in a high tone of careless assent.


Her concentration in other feelings had really hindered her from taking notice that her hand was being held.

Her concentration on other feelings had prevented her from noticing that her hand was being held.


"We are always getting the worst of it."


said Gwendolen, in a tone of inquiry, looking at him more navely than usual.


She longed to believe this commonplace _badinage_ as the serious truth about her lover: in that case, she too was justified. If she knew everything, Mrs. Glasher would appear more blamable than Grandcourt.

She longed to believe this commonplace statement was the truth: in that case, Mrs. Glasher would appear more blameable than Grandcourt.


said Grandcourt, looking into her eyes with his narrow gaze.


She was conscious of having received so much, that her sense of command was checked, and sank away in the perception that, look around her as she might, she could not turn back: it was as if she had consented to mount a chariot where another held the reins; and it was not in her nature to leap out in the eyes of the world.

She was conscious of having received so much, that her sense of command was checked. She could not turn back: it was as if she had consented to mount a chariot where another held the reins.


She had not consented in ignorance, and all she could say now would be a confession that she had not been ignorant.


All she had to do now was to adjust herself, so that the spikes of that unwilling penance which conscience imposed should not gall her.

All she could do was to adjust herself, so that the spikes of that unwilling penance which conscience imposed should not gall her.


With a sort of mental shiver, she resolutely changed her mental attitude. There had been a little pause, during which she had not turned away her eyes; and with a sudden break into a smile, she said,

With a sort of inward shiver, she resolutely changed her mental attitude, and smiling suddenly, she said-


"If I were as kind to you as you are to me, that would spoil your generosity: it would no longer be as great as it could be--and it is that now."

"If I were as kind to you as you are to me, that would spoil your generosity: it would no longer be as great as it is."


"Then I am not to ask for one kiss," said Grandcourt, contented to pay a large price for this new kind of love-making, which introduced marriage by the finest contrast.


said Gwendolen, getting saucy, and nodding at him defiantly.


He lifted her little left hand to his lips, and then released it respectfully.


Clearly it was faint praise to say of him that he was not disgusting: he was almost charming; and she felt at this moment that it was not likely she could ever have loved another man better than this one.

Indeed, he was almost charming; and she felt at this moment that it was not likely she could ever have loved another man better than this one.


His reticence gave her some inexplicable, delightful consciousness.


"Apropos," she said, taking up her work again, "is there any one besides Captain and Mrs. Torrington at Diplow?--or do you leave them _tete--tete_?

"Is there anyone besides the Torringtons at Diplow?"


I suppose he converses in cigars, and she answers with her chignon."


"She has a sister with her," said Grandcourt, with his shadow of a smile, "and there are two men besides--one of them you know, I believe."

"She has a sister with her," said Grandcourt, "and there are two men - one of them you know, I believe.


"Ah, then, I have a poor opinion of him," said Gwendolen, shaking her head.


"You saw him at Leubronn--young Deronda--a young fellow with the Mallingers."

You saw him at Leubronn - young Deronda - with the Mallingers."


Gwendolen felt as if her heart were making a sudden gambol, and her fingers, which tried to keep a firm hold on her work, got cold.

Gwendolen felt as if her heart made a sudden jump.


"I never spoke to him," she said, dreading any discernible change in herself.

"I never spoke to him," she said, dreading to show any change.


"No, not particularly," said Grandcourt, in his most languid way.

"Not particularly," said Grandcourt languidly.


"He thinks a little too much of himself.


I thought he had been introduced to you."


Some one told me his name the evening before I came away.

Some one told me his name before I came away, that's all.


"A sort of ward of Sir Hugo Mallinger's.


said Gwendolen, speaking from the lip, and not meaning any sarcasm.


she added, rising and going to look out of the window.

she added, rising to look out of the window.


Happily it did not rain the next day, and Gwendolen rode to Diplow on Criterion as she had done on that former day when she returned with her mother in the carriage.

Happily it did not rain the next day, and Gwendolen rode to Diplow on Criterion.


She always felt the more daring for being in her riding-dress; besides having the agreeable belief that she looked as well as possible in it--a sustaining consciousness in any meeting which seems formidable.

She always felt more daring in her riding-dress; besides having the fortifying belief that she looked as well as possible in it.


Her anger toward Deronda had changed into a superstitious dread--due, perhaps, to the coercion he had exercised over her thought--lest the first interference of his in her life might foreshadow some future influence.

Her anger toward Deronda had changed to superstitious dread lest his first interference in her life might foreshadow some future influence.


It is of such stuff that superstitions are commonly made: an intense feeling about ourselves which makes the evening star shine at us with a threat, and the blessing of a beggar encourage us. And superstitions carry consequences which often verify their hope or their foreboding.

It is of such stuff that superstitions are made; and they carry consequences which often verify their hope or their foreboding.


The time before luncheon was taken up for Gwendolen by going over the rooms with Mrs. Torrington and Mrs. Davilow; and she thought it likely that if she saw Deronda, there would hardly be need for more than a bow between them. She meant to notice him as little as possible.
And after all she found herself under an inward compulsion too strong for her pride.

She did not see Deronda until lunchtime.


From the first moment of their being in the room together, she seemed to herself to be doing nothing but notice him; everything else was automatic performance of an habitual part.

But from the first moment of their being in the room together, she seemed to herself to be doing nothing but notice him.


When he took his place at lunch, Grandcourt had said, "Deronda, Miss Harleth tells me you were not introduced to her at Leubronn?"

When he took his place at lunch, Grandcourt said, "Deronda, Miss Harleth tells me you were not introduced to her at Leubronn?"


"Miss Harleth hardly remembers me, I imagine," said Deronda, looking at her quite simply, as they bowed.

"Miss Harleth hardly remembers me, I imagine," said Deronda, looking at her as they bowed.


"She was intensely occupied when I saw her."


Now, did he suppose that she had not suspected him of being the person who redeemed her necklace?


I remember you very well," said Gwendolen, feeling rather nervous, but governing herself and looking at him in return with new examination.

I remember you very well," said Gwendolen, feeling rather nervous, but governing herself.


"You did not approve of my playing at roulette."


"Oh, you cast an evil eye on my play," said Gwendolen, with a turn of her head and a smile.


"I began to lose as soon as you came to look on.


"Roulette in such a kennel as Leubronn is a horrid bore," said Grandcourt.


"_I_ found it a bore when I began to lose," said Gwendolen.

"I found it a bore when I began to lose," said Gwendolen.


Her face was turned toward Grandcourt as she smiled and spoke, but she gave a sidelong glance at Deronda, and saw his eyes fixed on her with a look so gravely penetrating that it had a keener edge for her than his ironical smile at her losses--a keener edge than Klesmer's judgment.

Her face was turned toward Grandcourt as she smiled and spoke, but she gave a sidelong glance at Deronda, and saw his eyes fixed on her with a gravely penetrating look.


She wheeled her neck round as if she wanted to listen to what was being said by the rest, while she was only thinking of Deronda.


His face had that disturbing kind of form and expression which threatens to affect opinion--as if one's standard was somehow wrong.

His face had that disturbing expression which threatens to affect one's opinion - as if one's standard was somehow wrong.


(Who has not seen men with faces of this corrective power till they frustrated it by speech or action?)


His voice, heard now for the first time, was to Grandcourt's toneless drawl, which had been in her ears every day, as the deep notes of a violoncello to the broken discourse of poultry and other lazy gentry in the afternoon sunshine.

His voice, heard now for the first time, was to Grandcourt's toneless drawl as the deep notes of a cello to the broken discourse of poultry.


Grandcourt, she inwardly conjectured, was perhaps right in saying that Deronda thought too much of himself:--a favorite way of explaining a superiority that humiliates.

Grandcourt, she decided, was perhaps right in saying that Deronda thought too much of himself: a favourite way of explaining a superiority that humiliates.


However the talk turned on the rinderpest and Jamaica, and no more was said about roulette.

The talk turned on the West Indies, and no more was said about roulette.


Grandcourt held that the Jamaica negro was a beastly sort of baptist Caliban; Deronda said he had always felt a little with Caliban, who naturally had his own point of view and could sing a good song; Mrs. Davilow observed that her father had an estate in Barbadoes, but that she herself had never been in the West Indies; Mrs. Torrington was sure she should never sleep in her bed if she lived among blacks; her husband corrected her by saying that the blacks would be manageable enough if it were not for the half-breeds; and Deronda remarked that the whites had to thank themselves for the half-breeds.


While this polite pea-shooting was going on, Gwendolen trifled with her jelly, and looked at every speaker in turn that she might feel at ease in looking at Deronda.


He must have felt interested in me, else he would not have sent me my necklace.


What notions has he to make him so grave about things?


These questions ran in her mind as the voice of an uneasy longing to be judged by Deronda with unmixed admiration--a longing which had had its seed in her first resentment at his critical glance.

These questions ran in her mind, and she felt an uneasy longing to be admired by Deronda - a longing which sprang from her first resentment at his critical glance.


Why did she care so much about the opinion of this man who was "nothing of any consequence"?


She had no time to find the reason--she was too much engaged in caring.

She had no time to find the reason: she was too much engaged in caring.


In the drawing-room, when something had called Grandcourt away, she went quite unpremeditatedly up to Deronda, who was standing at a table apart, turning over some prints, and said to him,

In the drawing-room, when something had called Grandcourt away, she went up to Deronda, and said-


"Shall you hunt to-morrow, Mr. Deronda?"


It is a sin I am inclined to--when I can't get boating or cricketing."

"It is a sin I am inclined to, when I can't get boating or cricket."


said Gwendolen, with a saucy movement of the chin.


"I have no right to object to anything you choose to do."


"You thought you had a right to object to my gambling," persisted Gwendolen.


I am not aware that I told you of my objection," said Deronda, with his usual directness of gaze--a large-eyed gravity, innocent of any intention.

I am not aware that I told you of my objection," said Deronda, with his usual directness of gaze - a large-eyed gravity, innocent of any intention.


His eyes had a peculiarity which has drawn many men into trouble; they were of a dark yet mild intensity which seemed to express a special interest in every one on whom he fixed them, and might easily help to bring on him those claims which ardently sympathetic people are often creating in the minds of those who need help.

His eyes had an intensity which seemed to express a special interest in everyone on whom he fixed them, and which might easily encourage them to ask for his help and sympathy.


In mendicant fashion we make the goodness of others a reason for exorbitant demands on them.


That sort of effect was penetrating Gwendolen.


"You hindered me from gambling again," she answered.


But she had no sooner spoken than she blushed over face and neck; and Deronda blushed, too, conscious that in the little affair of the necklace he had taken a questionable freedom.


It was impossible to speak further; and she turned away to a window, feeling that she had stupidly said what she had not meant to say, and yet being rather happy that she had plunged into this mutual understanding.


Gwendolen seemed more decidedly attractive than before; and certainly there had been changes going on within her since that time at Leubronn: the struggle of mind attending a conscious error had wakened something like a new soul, which had better, but also worse, possibilities than her former poise of crude self-confidence: among the forces she had come to dread was something within her that troubled satisfaction.

Gwendolen seemed more decidedly attractive than before; and certainly she had changed since Leubronn: she showed the consciousness of error rather than her former crude self-confidence.


That evening Mrs. Davilow said, "Was it really so, or only a joke of yours, about Mr. Deronda's spoiling your play, Gwen?"

That evening Mrs. Davilow said, "Did Mr. Deronda really spoil your play, Gwen?"


Her curiosity had been excited, and she could venture to ask a question that did not concern Mr. Grandcourt.


"Oh, it merely happened that he was looking on when I began to lose," said Gwendolen, carelessly.


"I don't wonder at that: he is a striking young man.

"I don't wonder: he is a striking young man.


He puts me in mind of Italian paintings.


One would guess, without being told, that there was foreign blood in his veins."


I asked particularly who he was, and she told me that his mother was some foreigner of high rank."

She told me that his mother was some foreigner of high rank."


"Well--every one says he is the son of Sir Hugo Mallinger, who brought him up; though he passes for a ward.

"Well - everyone says he is the son of Sir Hugo Mallinger, who brought him up; though he passes for a ward.


She says, if Sir Hugo Mallinger could have done as he liked with his estates, he would have left them to this Mr. Deronda, since he has no legitimate son."

She says, if Sir Hugo could have done as he liked with his estates, he would have left them to this Mr. Deronda, since he has no legitimate son."


Gwendolen was silent; but her mother observed so marked an effect in her face that she was angry with herself for having repeated Mrs. Torrington's gossip.

Gwendolen was silent; but her mother saw so marked an effect in her face that she was angry with herself for having repeated Mrs. Torrington's gossip.


It seemed, on reflection, unsuited to the ear of her daughter, for whom Mrs. Davilow disliked what is called knowledge of the world; and indeed she wished that she herself had not had any of it thrust upon her.

It seemed, on reflection, unsuited to her daughter's ear.


An image which had immediately arisen in Gwendolen's mind was that of the unknown mother--no doubt a dark-eyed woman--probably sad.

An image of the sad, dark-eyed, unknown mother had immediately arisen in Gwendolen's mind.


Hardly any face could be less like Deronda's than that represented as Sir Hugo's in a crayon portrait at Diplow.


A dark-eyed woman, no longer young, had become "stuff o' the conscience" to Gwendolen.

A dark-eyed woman, no longer young, had become "stuff o' the conscience" to her.


That night when she had got into her little bed, and only a dim light was burning, she said,

That night when she was in her little bed, and only a dim light was burning, she said-


"Mamma, have men generally children before they are married?"


(But she began to think that she saw the why.)


"If it were so, I ought to know," said Gwendolen, with some indignation.

"If it were so, I ought to know," said Gwendolen indignantly.


"You are thinking of what I said about Mr. Deronda and Sir Hugo Mallinger.


That is quite clear, because Mr. Deronda has lived with them."


"Well, of course he is under some disadvantage: it is not as if he were Lady Mallinger's son. He does not inherit the property, and he is not of any consequence in the world.

"Well, of course he does not inherit the property.


But people are not obliged to know anything about his birth; you see, he is very well received."

But people are not obliged to know anything about his birth; he is very well received."


"I wonder whether he knows about it; and whether he is angry with his father?"

"I wonder whether he knows about it; and is angry with his father?"


"My dear child, why should you think of that?"


said Gwendolen, impetuously, sitting up in her bed.


"Haven't children reason to be angry with their parents?


How can they help their parents marrying or not marrying?"


But a consciousness rushed upon her, which made her fall back again on her pillow.


It was not only what she would have felt months before--that she might seem to be reproaching her mother for that second marriage of hers; what she chiefly felt now was that she had been led on to a condemnation which seemed to make her own marriage a forbidden thing.

It was not only that she might seem to reproach her mother for her second marriage; but she had been led to a condemnation which made her own marriage a forbidden thing.


There was no further talk, and till sleep came over her Gwendolen lay struggling with the reasons against that marriage--reasons which pressed upon her newly now that they were unexpectedly mirrored in the story of a man whose slight relations with her had, by some hidden affinity, bitten themselves into the most permanent layers of feeling.

There was no further talk, and till sleep came Gwendolen lay struggling with the reasons against that marriage - reasons which pressed upon her newly, now that they were unexpectedly mirrored in the story of Deronda, whose relations with her had bitten themselves into the most permanent layers of feeling.


It was characteristic that, with all her debating, she was never troubled by the question whether the indefensibleness of her marriage did not include the fact that she had accepted Grandcourt solely as a man whom it was convenient for her to marry, not in the least as one to whom she would be binding herself in duty.

But for all her debating, she was never troubled by the question whether it was defensible of her to marry Grandcourt solely for convenience, without seeing him as one to whom she was to bind herself in duty.


Gwendolen's ideas were pitiably crude; but many grand difficulties of life are apt to force themselves on us in our crudity.


And to judge wisely, I suppose we must know how things appear to the unwise; that kind of appearance making the larger part of the world's history.


In the morning there was a double excitement for her.


She was going to hunt, from which scruples about propriety had threatened to hinder her, until it was found that Mrs. Torrington was horsewoman enough to accompany her--going to hunt for the first time since her escapade with Rex; and she was going again to see Deronda, in whom, since last night, her interest had so gathered that she expected, as people do about revealed celebrities, to see something in his appearance which she had missed before.

She was going to hunt; and she was going again to see Deronda, in whom her interest had grown.


What sort of life had he before him--he being nothing of any consequence?

What sort of life and career had he before him?


And with only a little difference in events he might have been as important as Grandcourt, nay--her imagination inevitably went into that direction--might have held the very estates which Grandcourt was to have.

With only a little difference in events he might have been as important as Grandcourt, nay, might have held the very estates which Grandcourt was to have.


But now, Deronda would probably some day see her mistress of the Abbey at Topping, see her bearing the title which would have been his own wife's.

But now, Deronda would probably some day see her bearing the title which would have been his own wife's.


These obvious, futile thoughts of what might have been, made a new epoch for Gwendolen.


She, whose unquestionable habit it had been to take the best that came to her for less than her own claim, had now to see the position which tempted her in a new light, as a hard, unfair exclusion of others.

She had now to see her marriage in a new light, as a hard, unfair exclusion of others.


What she had now heard about Deronda seemed to her imagination to throw him into one group with Mrs. Glasher and her children; before whom she felt herself in an attitude of apology--she who had hitherto been surrounded by a group that in her opinion had need be apologetic to her.

What she had heard about Deronda seemed to throw him into one group with Mrs. Glasher and her children.


Perhaps Deronda himself was thinking of these things.


If he knew that she knew, he would despise her; but he could have no such knowledge.


Would he, without that, despise her for marrying Grandcourt?


His possible judgment of her actions was telling on her as importunately as Klesmer's judgment of her powers; but she found larger room for resistance to a disapproval of her marriage, because it is easier to make our conduct seem justifiable to ourselves than to make our ability strike others. "How can I help it?" is not our favorite apology for incompetency. But Gwendolen felt some strength in saying,

His possible judgment of her actions was telling on her as strongly as Klesmer's judgment of her powers; but she felt some strength in saying-


"How can I help what other people have done?


Things would not come right if I were to turn round now and declare that I would not marry Mr. Grandcourt."


And such turning round was out of the question.


The horses in the chariot she had mounted were going at full speed.


This mood of youthful, elated desperation had a tidal recurrence.


She could dare anything that lay before her sooner than she could choose to go backward, into humiliation; and it was even soothing to think that there would now be as much ill-doing in the one as in the other.


But the immediate delightful fact was the hunt, where she would see Deronda, and where he would see her; for always lurking ready to obtrude before other thoughts about him was the impression that he was very much interested in her.

And the immediate delightful fact was the hunt, where she would see Deronda, and where he would see her; for always lurking in her thoughts about him was the impression that he was very much interested in her.


But to-day she was resolved not to repeat her folly of yesterday, as if she were anxious to say anything to him.

But today she was resolved not to repeat her folly of yesterday, as if she were anxious to say anything to him.


Indeed, the hunt would be too absorbing.


Deronda was there, and within her sight very often; but this only added to the stimulus of a pleasure which Gwendolen had only once before tasted, and which seemed likely always to give a delight independent of any crosses, except such as took away the chance of riding.

Deronda was there, and within her sight; but this only added to the pleasure of the hunt.


No accident happened to throw them together; the run took them within convenient reach of home, and the agreeable sombreness of the gray November afternoon, with a long stratum of yellow light in the west, Gwendolen was returning with the company from Diplow, who were attending her on the way to Offendene.

No accident happened to throw them together; and once they were within reach of home, and Gwendolen was returning with the company to Offendene, the sense of glorious excitement had gone.


Now the sense of glorious excitement was over and gone, she was getting irritably disappointed that she had had no opportunity of speaking to Deronda, whom she would not see again, since he was to go away in a couple of days.

She was irritably disappointed that she had had no opportunity of speaking to Deronda, whom she would not see again, since he was to go away in a couple of days.


Grandcourt was by her side; Mrs. Torrington, her husband, and another gentleman in advance; and Deronda's horse she could hear behind.

Grandcourt was by her side, and Deronda's horse she could hear behind.


The wish to speak to him and have him speaking to her was becoming imperious; and there was no chance of it unless she simply asserted her will and defied everything.

The wish to speak to him was becoming imperious; and there was no chance of it unless she simply asserted her will and defied everything.


Where the order of things could give way to Miss Gwendolen, it must be made to do so.


They had lately emerged from a wood of pines and beeches, where the twilight stillness had a repressing effect, which increased her impatience.


The horse-hoofs again heard behind at some little distance were a growing irritation.

The horse-hoofs heard behind her were a growing irritation.


She reined in her horse and looked behind her; Grandcourt after a few paces, also paused; but she, waving her whip and nodding sideways with playful imperiousness, said, "Go on!

She reined in her horse and looked back; Grandcourt also paused; but she, waving her whip with playful imperiousness, said, "Go on!


Grandcourt hesitated; but that he would have done after any proposition. It was an awkward situation for him.

Grandcourt hesitated; it was an awkward situation for him.


No gentleman, before marriage, could give the emphasis of refusal to a command delivered in this playful way.

No gentleman, before marriage, could refuse a command delivered in this playful way.


He rode on slowly, and she waited till Deronda came up.


He looked at her with tacit inquiry, and she said at once, letting her horse go alongside of his,

He looked at her with tacit inquiry, and she said at once, riding alongside him-


"Mr. Deronda, you must enlighten my ignorance.


I want to know why you thought it wrong for me to gamble.

Why did you think it wrong for me to gamble?


"Not altogether; but I regretted it the more because you were a woman," said Deronda, with an irrepressible smile.


Apparently it must be understood between them now that it was he who sent the necklace.


"I think it would be better for men not to gamble.


It is a besotting kind of taste, likely to turn into a disease.

It is a taste likely to turn into a disease.


And, besides, there is something revolting to me in raking a heap of money together, and internally chuckling over it, when others are feeling the loss of it.

And, besides, there is something revolting to me in raking a heap of money together, and chuckling over it, when others are feeling the loss of it.


I should even call it base, if it were more than an exceptional lapse.


There are enough inevitable turns of fortune which force us to see that our gain is another's loss:--that is one of the ugly aspects of life.

There are enough events where our gain is another's loss: that is one of the ugly aspects of life.


One would like to reduce it as much as one could, not get amusement out of exaggerating it."

One should not get amusement out of exaggerating it."


Deronda's voice had gathered some indignation while he was speaking.

Deronda's voice had gathered some indignation.


"But you do admit that we can't help things," said Gwendolen, with a drop in her tone.

"But you do admit that we can't help things," said Gwendolen.


The answer had not been anything like what she had expected.


"I mean that things are so in spite of us; we can't always help it that our gain is another's loss."

"We can't always help it that our gain is another's loss."


Because of that, we should help it where we can."


Gwendolen, biting her lip inside, paused a moment, and then forcing herself to speak with an air of playfulness again, said,

Gwendolen, biting her lip, paused, and then forcing herself to speak playfully again, said-


"But why should you regret it more because I am a woman?"


"Perhaps because we need that you should be better than we are."

"Perhaps because we need you to be better than us."


"But suppose _we_ need that men should be better than we are," said Gwendolen with a little air of "check!"

"But suppose we need men to be better than us," said Gwendolen with a little air of "check!"


"That is rather a difficulty," said Deronda, smiling.


"I suppose I should have said, we each of us think it would be better for the other to be good."


"You see, I needed you to be better than I was--and you thought so," said Gwendolen, nodding and laughing, while she put her horse forward and joined Grandcourt, who made no observation.

"You see, I needed you to be better than I was - and you thought so," said Gwendolen, laughing, while she put her horse forward and joined Grandcourt, who made no observation.


"Don't you want to know what I had to say to Mr. Deronda?"


said Gwendolen, whose own pride required her to account for her conduct.

said Gwendolen, whose pride required her to account for her conduct.


"Now that is the first impolite word you have spoken--that you don't wish to hear what I had to say," said Gwendolen, playing at a pout.

"Now that is the first impolite word you have spoken - that you don't wish to hear what I had to say," said Gwendolen, playing at a pout.


"I wish to hear what you say to me--not to other men," said Grandcourt.

"I wish to hear what you say to me, not to other men," said Grandcourt.


"I wanted to make him tell me why he objected to my gambling, and he gave me a little sermon."


If Gwendolen imagined that Grandcourt cared about her speaking to Deronda, he wished her to understand that she was mistaken.

If Gwendolen imagined that Grandcourt cared about her speaking to Deronda, he wished her to know that she was mistaken.


But he was not fond of being told to ride on.


She saw he was piqued, but did not mind.


She had accomplished her object of speaking again to Deronda before he raised his hat and turned with the rest toward Diplow, while her lover attended her to Offendene, where he was to bid farewell before a whole day's absence on the unspecified journey.

She had accomplished her object of speaking again to Deronda before he turned with the rest toward Diplow, while her lover attended her to Offendene, where he was to bid farewell before his absence on the unspecified journey.


Grandcourt had spoken truth in calling the journey a bore: he was going by train to Gadsmere.

Grandcourt was going by train to Gadsmere.


"This, too is probable, according to that saying of Agathon: 'It is a part of probability that many improbable things will happen.'"


Imagine the conflict in a mind like Deronda's given not only to feel strongly but to question actively, on the evening after the interview with Mordecai.

Imagine the conflict in a responsive and questioning mind like Deronda's, after the interview with Mordecai.


To a young man of much duller susceptibilities the adventure might have seemed enough out of the common way to divide his thoughts; but it had stirred Deronda so deeply, that with the usual reaction of his intellect he began to examine the grounds of his emotion, and consider how far he must resist its guidance.

The adventure might have moved a much duller young man; but it had stirred Deronda so deeply, that with his usual reaction of his intellect he began to examine his emotion, and consider how far he must resist its guidance.


The consciousness that he was half dominated by Mordecai's energetic certitude, and still more by his fervent trust, roused his alarm.

The consciousness that he was dominated by Mordecai's certainty and trust alarmed him.


It was his characteristic bias to shrink from the moral stupidity of valuing lightly what had come close to him, and of missing blindly in his own life of to-day the crisis which he recognized as momentous and sacred in the historic life of men.

He shrank from undervaluing an experience simply because it had come close to him, when in an historical context he would recognise it as a momentous event.


If he had read of this incident as having happened centuries ago in Rome, Greece, Asia Minor, Palestine, Cairo, to some man young as himself, dissatisfied with his neutral life, and wanting some closer fellowship, some more special duty to give him ardor for the possible consequences of his work, it would have appeared to him quite natural that the incident should have created a deep impression on that far-off man, whose clothing and action would have been seen in his imagination as part of an age chiefly known to us through its more serious effects.

If he had read of this incident as having happened centuries ago in Rome, Greece, or Asia Minor, to some young man dissatisfied with life, and wanting a special fellowship or duty to inspire him with passion for his work, it would have seemed quite natural that the meeting should have created a deep impression on him.


Why should he be ashamed of his own agitated feeling merely because he dressed for dinner, wore a white tie, and lived among people who might laugh at his owning any conscience in the matter, as the solemn folly of taking himself too seriously?--that bugbear of circles in which the lack of grave emotion passes for wit.

Why should he be ashamed of his own agitated feeling merely because he dressed for dinner, wore a white tie, and lived among people who might laugh at his seriousness in the matter?


From such cowardice before modish ignorance and obtuseness, Deronda shrank. But he also shrank from having his course determined by mere contagion, without consent of reason; or from allowing a reverential pity for spiritual struggle to hurry him along a dimly-seen path.

But Deronda also shrank from having his course determined without the consent of reason; or from allowing his pity to hurry him along a dimly-seen path.


He knew quite accurately the answer Sir Hugo would have given: "A consumptive Jew, possessed by a fanaticism which obstacles and hastening death intensified, had fixed on Deronda as the antitype of some visionary image, the offspring of wedded hope and despair: despair of his own life, irrepressible hope in the propagation of his fanatical beliefs.

He knew what Sir Hugo would have said: "A consumptive, fanatical Jew has fixed on Deronda as the embodiment of some visionary image born of his fanatical beliefs and his despair of his own life.


The instance was perhaps odd, exceptional in its form, but substantially it was not rare. Fanaticism was not so common as bankruptcy, but taken in all its aspects it was abundant enough.


While Mordecai was waiting on the bridge for the fulfillment of his visions, another man was convinced that he had the mathematical key of the universe which would supersede Newton, and regarded all known physicists as conspiring to stifle his discovery and keep the universe locked; another, that he had the metaphysical key, with just that hair's-breadth of difference from the old wards which would make it fit exactly.

The world is full of fanatics convinced they hold the key to unique knowledge.


Scattered here and there in every direction you might find a terrible person, with more or less power of speech, and with an eye either glittering or preternaturally dull, on the look-out for the man who must hear him; and in most cases he had volumes which it was difficult to get printed, or if printed to get read.

Scattered in every direction you might find a terrible person with a glittering eye, on the look-out for the man who must hear him; and in most cases he had volumes which he could not get printed or read.


This Mordecai happened to have a more pathetic aspect, a more passionate, penetrative speech than was usual with such monomaniacs; he was more poetical than a social reformer with colored views of the new moral world in parallelograms, or than an enthusiast in sewage; still he came under the same class.

This Mordecai happened to have a more pathetic aspect, a more passionate speech than most; but still he came under the same class.


It would be only right and kind to indulge him a little, to comfort him with such help as was practicable; but what likelihood was there that his notions had the sort of value he ascribed to them?

It would be only right and kind to indulge him a little, to comfort him with such help as was practicable; but how likely was it that his ideas had any value?


In such cases a man of the world knows what to think beforehand.


And as to Mordecai's conviction that he had found a new executive self, it might be preparing for him the worst of disappointments--that which presents itself as final."

As to Mordecai's conviction that he had found a new executive self, it might lead to the worst of disappointments."


Deronda's ear caught all these negative whisperings; nay, he repeated them distinctly to himself.

Deronda's ear caught all these negative whisperings.


It was not the first but it was the most pressing occasion on which he had had to face this question of the family likeness among the heirs of enthusiasm, whether prophets or dreamers of dreams, whether the


"Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers,"


or the devotees of phantasmal discovery--from the first believer in his own unmanifested inspiration, down to the last inventor of an ideal machine that will achieve perpetual motion.


The kinship of human passion, the sameness of mortal scenery, inevitably fill fact with burlesque and parody.

He knew that human passion invites burlesque and parody.


Error and folly have had their hecatombs of martyrs.

Many martyrs have been sacrificed to error and folly.


Reduce the grandest type of man hitherto known to an abstract statement of his qualities and efforts, and he appears in dangerous company: say that, like Copernicus and Galileo, he was immovably convinced in the face of hissing incredulity; but so is the contriver of perpetual motion. We cannot fairly try the spirits by this sort of test. If we want to avoid giving the dose of hemlock or the sentence of banishment in the wrong case, nothing will do but a capacity to understand the subject-matter on which the immovable man is convinced, and fellowship with human travail, both near and afar, to hinder us from scanning any deep experience lightly.

The grandest man can appear ridiculous if reduced to an abstract statement of his qualities and efforts: to do him justice, we need to understand the subject-matter on which he is convinced, and to feel fellowship with his effort.


Shall we say, "Let the ages try the spirits, and see what they are worth?"


Why, we are the beginning of the ages, which can only be just by virtue of just judgments in separate human breasts--separate yet combined.


Even steam-engines could not have got made without that condition, but must have stayed in the mind of James Watt.


This track of thinking was familiar enough to Deronda to have saved him from any contemptuous prejudgment of Mordecai, even if their communication had been free from that peculiar claim on himself strangely ushered in by some long-growing preparation in the Jew's agitated mind.

Deronda was familiar enough with this track of thinking to be saved from any contemptuous prejudgment of Mordecai, even without the peculiar claim made on him by the Jew.


This claim, indeed, considered in what is called a rational way, might seem justifiably dismissed as illusory and even preposterous; but it was precisely what turned Mordecai's hold on him from an appeal to his ready sympathy into a clutch on his struggling conscience.

This claim, indeed, considered rationally, might seem preposterous; but it was precisely what turned Mordecai's hold on him from an appeal to his sympathy into a clutch on his struggling conscience.


Our consciences are not all of the same pattern, an inner deliverance of fixed laws: they are the voice of sensibilities as various as our memories (which also have their kinship and likeness).

Our consciences are not all of the same pattern: they are as various as our memories.


And Deronda's conscience included sensibilities beyond the common, enlarged by his early habit of thinking himself imaginatively into the experience of others.

And Deronda's conscience was enlarged by his early habit of thinking himself imaginatively into the experience of others.


What was the claim this eager soul made upon him?--"You must believe my beliefs--be moved by my reasons--hope my hopes--see the vision I point to--behold a glory where I behold it!"

What was the claim this eager soul made upon him? "You must believe my beliefs - be moved by my reasons - hope my hopes - behold a glory where I behold it!"


To take such a demand in the light of an obligation in any direct sense would have been preposterous--to have seemed to admit it would have been dishonesty; and Deronda, looking on the agitation of those moments, felt thankful that in the midst of his compassion he had preserved himself from the bondage of false concessions.

To see this as an obligation would have been preposterous - to have agreed to it would have been dishonesty; and Deronda felt thankful that in his compassion he had preserved himself from the bondage of false agreements.


The claim hung, too, on a supposition which might be--nay, probably was--in discordance with the full fact: the supposition that he, Deronda, was of Jewish blood.

The claim hung, too, on a supposition which was probably not true: the supposition that he, Deronda, was of Jewish blood.


Was there ever a more hypothetic appeal?


But since the age of thirteen Deronda had associated the deepest experience of his affections with what was a pure supposition, namely, that Sir Hugo was his father: that was a hypothesis which had been the source of passionate struggle within him; by its light he had been accustomed to subdue feelings and to cherish them.

But since the age of thirteen Deronda had associated his deepest affections with the assumption that Sir Hugo was his father. That theory had been the source of passionate struggle within him; by its light he had been accustomed to subdue feelings and to cherish them.


He had been well used to find a motive in a conception which might be disproved; and he had been also used to think of some revelation that might influence his view of the particular duties belonging to him.

He had been well used to find a motive in a belief which might be disproved; and he had been also used to imagine some revelation that might change his view of his duties.


To be in a state of suspense, which was also one of emotive activity and scruple, was a familiar attitude of his conscience.

A state of scrupulous suspense was familiar to him.


And now, suppose that wish-begotten belief in his Jewish birth, and that extravagant demand of discipleship, to be the foreshadowing of an actual discovery and a genuine spiritual result: suppose that Mordecai's ideas made a real conquest over Deronda's conviction?

And now, suppose that belief in his Jewish birth, and that extravagant demand of discipleship, to be the foreshadowing of an actual discovery: suppose that Mordecai's ideas made a real conquest over Deronda's conviction?


Nay, it was conceivable that as Mordecai needed and believed that, he had found an active replenishment of himself, so Deronda might receive from Mordecai's mind the complete ideal shape of that personal duty and citizenship which lay in his own thought like sculptured fragments certifying some beauty yearned after but not traceable by divination.

It was possible that just as Mordecai believed he had found a renewal of himself, so Deronda might receive from Mordecai's mind the complete ideal shape of that personal duty which lay in his own thought, like sculptured fragments indicating some beauty yearned after but without a foreseeable form.


As that possibility presented itself in his meditations, he was aware that it would be called dreamy, and began to defend it.

As he meditated on that possibility, he was aware that it would be called dreamy, and began to defend it.